Sick people

I was walking on the street the other night when I got sucker-punched by an old man. It wasn’t really hard, but it still hurt. It came out of nowhere and I was too surprised to do anything but hiss “don’t touch me” and move on.

About two hours later I was getting into a cab and the old man came up to the open window and lifted his arm like he was going to hit me again. (He must of liked my reaction because he was grinning, I think in anticipation.)

The cab driver saw what was happening and drove off before he could get me. I told the cab driver what had happened and he said, “Well, he’s sick in the head.”

“Yeah, but getting hit hurts,” I complained.

“Well, he’s sick,” the driver repeated.

I kind of like this approach to mental illness. But a small part of me wishes I had hit him back.