We Barely Dodged The Crazy

The other night, actually, I can tell you exactly which night it was, it was Thursday night, July 3rd, I was walking home from the movies with my good old pal Barnaby, when we were assaulted by a New York Crazy.

I have lived in New York for roughly a year and I have never ever ever not once been assaulted by a New York Crazy. I once had a late-night conversation with a man wearing a suit made of newspapers about how he'd been delivered unto this Earth by aliens from the planet Magacacapoopee. I once watched a guy get bashed in the head with a steel baseball bat. I once overheard someone telling his pal that he didn't really rape that girl, the bitch wanted it. But no one has ever bothered me, personally.

Barnaby is a good friend of mine from college. We met during rehearsals for a show where I played this cult leader who convinced her twelve sisters to give themselves hysterectomies using a dirty knife she pulls from her boot and without the use of painkillers or drugs and he was playing a dog with a 12 inch black boner. Yes, his costume actually involved a 12 inch rubber penis. A black 12 inch rubber penis. And yes, both sets of parents came to see this play. Mine liked it so much they came back a second time. Anyway, Barnaby and I have been through a lot together. Once you've introduced someone to your parents while they're wearing a giant rubber dildo outside their pants, the relationship is pretty much sealed. Barnaby is definitely one of my more NY savvy friends, having visited the city enough times that, even though he's never lived here, was actually born and raised in LA just like me, he's probably spent more time in the city than I have even though I live here. So, you know, he's not an idiot and he knows how to handle himself on the streets of NY.

That being said, it's probably hard to understand why I was surprised when, walking across 44th St. on 9th Ave. at 1:30 a.m., Barnaby doesn't even flinch as he's accosted by a very round, very sweaty, very hairy, very loud man. In fact, he doesn't even notice. And when I point out to him what just happened, how we almost died at the hands of a round, sweaty, hairy, loud man, he says, "Really? That's weird."