One of the only routine pleasures I have is driving to the waterfront and enjoying a cigar while looking around at the prettiest scenery in the south. I do it while listening to philosophy lectures or working through audio books.
Last week I was enjoying myself as I’ve described, when someone began yelling a few blocks away. It sounded like “Stalker! Stalker!” Or maybe it was “Smoker!”
I wondered if he was yelling at me? Maybe he was so inundated by pop-culture’s war against tobacco that he took it upon himself to publicly shame me for my antiquated vice? Others in the parking lot were looking around confused and uncomfortable. The old man, himself, was walking a small maltese, and ambled on his way without clarifying the nature of his angst. I chalked it up to one of those weird public encounters that can’t be explained.
I saw him again today, however, around 1230, so I’m making a public record here in case he acts against me in the future (be it by getting the law involved or trying to attack me or who knows what).
I’m working through a Graham Greene novel – “Monsignor Quixote”, about a Catholic priest and a Marxist ex-Mayor who befriend each other in post-civil war Spain. They get mixed up in local adventures while arguing with each other about their conflicting worldviews. It’s a great little novel – I’ll expound on it later.
Having finished my cigar, I pulled out and headed home. As I was leaving, I saw the man standing there, glaring at me. He began yelling something and making (ungentlemanly-like) gestures.
If someone has a problem with me I like to resolve it immediately, so I circled the block, came back around, and parked in front of him. I hopped out and walked over.
“Do you have something you want to say to me, sir?”
I wont recount the bizarre conversation word for word, but the gist of it is: he accused me of being a spy, working on behalf of his “sexually degenerate” neighbor, and that I was stalking him.
“Sir, I promise you…I promise you I’m just down here listening to my book and don’t know you from Adam…”
“You need to get your [redacted]ing mother-[redacted]ing lying self away from me right now! Jesus has a place in Hell for liars and stalkers and degenerates!”
I told him to calm down and promised that in the future I’d try to avoid the waterfront if I saw him there. I don’t think that endeared him to me in anyway.
The guy obviously has some sort of mental issue – a pathological paranoia maybe? I don’t know, but I don’t plan on changing my habits for his sake.
What do you all think I should do?