I am dealing with a lunatic. A well-dressed lunatic, but a lunatic nonetheless. Someone who knows my name, thinks he's me, and is sitting about 2 feet away from me. My chair skootches a little, putting him two and a half feet from me. He notices and that irritating grin doesn't waver a bit. "I know. Scary, ain't it?"
"That I'm having a conversation with a crazy person in a coffeshop I don't like because he called me on a cell phone -"
"- which you don't remember owning -"
"- which I don't remember�" Blink. How long have I had this phone? Hell, how long have I been here? That explosion must have shaken me worse than I thought. Concussion? "Which� I don't remember.." the little green thing looks like � well� a cell phone. Green. The come in blue, don't they?
"� because you're not all here. And not just because He blew up your apartment, which happens to be the apartment you built six years ago�"
"Built? I'm not into heavy construction, 'Robert'�" I rented it, like anyone does when they're going to college. Going? Hang on.
"Because this isn't the real world."
I just sit there and stare at him. "You're. Nuts." Sounds so good to actually tell him this. Maybe he'll get the idea. Maybe I'll get the idea and leave. How fast can I run on a bruised leg? We'll find out in a moment.
"Not quite, Bob." His hand comes down on my shoulder - big fellah like him shouldn't be able to move so fast. I grab for it - show him that joint lock Conner taught me called 'Go up on your toes and walk backwards' and
And the world caves in.