Member-only story
Checking into a Funny Farm
What is it like? It’s a Process… And You Hear That a Lot
“I know this guy that stabs people. He’s probably killed hundreds of people. He’s probably stabbing someone right now. I call him Stabby-Stabby”
Wild eyed the new resident says this to me then bursts into disturbing laughter. I keep eating my oatmeal and remain expressionless.
She just checked into the crisis shelter I’ve been staying at for the last 8 days. Lots of characters stay here.
Like the angry old gangsta. He has one eye carved out of his head but no eyepatch. That poor old man has a chip on his shoulder and picks fights with everyone.
Random gang bangers come and go looking for shelter, and for opportunities.
Quite a few paranoid schizophrenics off their meds also find refuge here; some harmless, some not.
But nobody made me more nervous than the woman who talks about Stabby-Stabby.
I do what I can to avoid her. She seems fixated on me. I don’t like that. Her mood swings are unpredictable. She’s also clogged all the toilets so the bathrooms are no longer functional. She’s trouble. Thank God I’ll be moving on soon.