Friday, September 24, 2010

Voodoo Magic

Sometimes people are just too crazy to categorize or rationalize with.  A came from Haiti & originally had his son living with him.  A charming boy, he soon charmed himself into the drug trade, and now beds down compliments of NYS Corrections.  So A lives alone now. But not quite. He has imaginary friends.  Or something. 

We recently went to upgrade the smoke detectors in his apartment, but he’d added a lock on the bedroom door, and we didn’t have a key.  When I phoned A to arrange to return and complete the work, he said he put the lock on because people kept breaking into his apartment, stealing his food, and throwing his things around.  How someone could get into a locked building, then through a steel apartment door without any sign of forced entry, and how exactly a flimsy lock on a hollow-core interior door could stop such a determined, hungry thief, is beyond me.  But it made perfect sense to A. 

I’ve learned not to argue. Just made another appointment.

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