The Crazy Lady Returns!

Do I have a sign on my forehead? No, seriously. Do I have a sign on my head that invites crazy women to talk to me? I am repeatedly finding myself in situations to support this very absurd hypothesis!

The most recent event occurred only yesterday when I was peacefully resting at home, catching up on some work. I was responding to some e-mails when I heard the tapping of light feet pacing outside on my balcony. My apartment is situated that anyone can freely come onto my balcony, but the only reason they would ever do so was either to visit me or because they were lost. This middle-aged visitor's purpose was entirely different!

Just recently I acquired a new friend, who will be formally introduced in a subsequent post, and sometimes this friend can make a bit of noise. So as this woman came snooping about, I automatically assumed that she was coming to complain about the constant ruckus. As such, I decided to be extra polite and inquired if I may help her.

As soon as I offered this friendly bit of hospitality, she took it to the next level and invited herself in. Strange, but certainly I have seen stranger in Taiwan. She then sat down on my couch and started talking in broken English.

"Who are you?" "Where are you from?" The questions began rather innocently, and I was happy to oblige. Once I realized she was just stopping by to say hello, I brought my friend out and showed her some tricks. My friend immediately did not like her, and perhaps I should have bode that ominous warning. We continued to chat, and I noticed there was something strange about her- as if she were legitimately crazy. When she decided to give me her phone number, she gave me one that was entirely made up (meaning it didn't have a sufficient number of digits!)

The questioning began to get a little strange. After she asked me if I liked movies, she politely informed me that I looked like Tom Cruise. Better have been top gun Tom Cruise and not MI3 Tom Cruise! Either way, she then invited me to go to the movies with her, provided that I buy her tickets. The audacity! I told her I was very busy and had to do some work. She asked if she could wait on my couch, and still sensing no real harm, I allowed her to wait it out.

As I was typing at my computer, she asked me when Dan was getting home. I told her that Dan didn't live here anymore- now it was only me. She then got visibly upset and told me that she loved Dan and would never love another man (surprising after she just asked me on a date five minutes earlier). I asked where Dan was, and she said he was in America with his wife. (Probably avoiding her, I thought.)

She then picked up her stuff and said she had to leave. I said goodbye to her and that was that, or so I thought. Five minutes late she comes back and gives me a picture of Dan and asks me to keep it and tear it up. Awkwardly, I said that I wouldn't take the picture and that she should keep it. Reluctantly, she took it back. I returned to my computer, and without a second thought for social acceptablility, she followed me into my home and handed me a romance novel, saying I could keep it. I thanked her for the generosity, but informed her that I could not read Chinese. She then offered me lessons, to which I politely denied. I did, however, keep the book.

Now she was starting to take me away from my work and thus I had to ask her to leave. She said ok. And as I turned to my e-mails, I sensed that she was not budging. I turned around and now she had the nerve to peruse through my refrigerator, and returned with the comment, "Why haven't you offered me something to drink?"

Well, my little southern bell, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are really starting to irritate me. I stood up, and firmly asked her to close the door. At this point, I told her I was now going to escort her down to the security guards on the ground floor.

On the way down, she told me she had Dan's baby in her belly. I told her I thought that was nice.

Downstairs, I dropped her off with the security guards and returned upstairs to finally get some work done. I worked for about another hour before I heard the light pitter patter again on my balcony and her image scurrying about. At this point, I had to go meet a friend, so I shut down my computer, locked up the door, and walked out side to find her waiting for me. She told me she cooked some noodles and she wanted me to join her. I told I couldn't because I was meeting a friend. She pleaded with me, but there was no way I could stay. I then started to walk away before she announced that she was going to join me! That was unacceptable, but she was determined.

She walked to the apartment next to mine to grab her things and I asked if she lived in this apartment. She said yes. I asked her if we could go inside. She looked at me and told me she couldn't understand (although she could understand- she didn't want to get caught lying that she didn't live in the apartment next to me.) After wasting time trying to prove that she didn't live next to me, I escorted her again in the elevator down to the guards.

During the ride, I asked where she was going. She told me she was going to her mother's and father's house. I asked her if she knew which bus to take. She said she did, and she went fishing in her purse to locate the number. While she was digging around, we arrived at the ground floor again and I asked the guards to take care of this woman. Of course, she was not there- she had completely vanished. We went back to the elevator, opened the door, and there she was, naively still searching her bag for the bus number.

The guard became very upset with her and started to scold her. He then took her back to the people she was with and I took off to meet my friend. But the story does not end here.

When I returned home that night, my table on the balcony, had a dinner of noodles set for two. Although the crazy lady was nowhere to be seen, the scenario had the hallmark signs to a very creepy horror story. Let's hope this one doesn't have a sequel.

From your absurdly annoyed, understandably paranoid, crazy-lady magnet, Michael.