When you have to kick out someone with MPD...

...you better be ready to share the story with the world.

Saturday I had to open at Bullseye Inc. (I needed Tues., Thurs., and Sat. nights off, so I had to make a compromise). I was talking to a guest when I get a report of an old lady dancing around the store, randomly lifting up her shirt to just below "Danger Will Robinson" levels, and spitting out curse words. Well, to say the least, I was intrigued. So I go to check it out, and lo and behold, the report was spot on. So I go up to the "nice" lady and tell her that we value her business but I needed her to stop flashing the toys and to stop cursing. She said she hadn't realized that she WAS cursing, but she would stop immediately. As soon as I turned around (and before I had taken a single step), she called me a

*****BAD LANGUAGE ALERT!!!! CURSE WORDS AHEAD!!!!!!*****

motherfucker. So I told her that she had to go. This is what brought on the spectacle of me leading her out of the store, with her cussing me out, then cussing herself out for picking on the nice boy doing her job. The whole time she was speaking in the second person, telling herself to shut up "You be quiet, he's just doing his job". "Fuck you, he's an asshole and so are you!".

Mind you, none of this was being directed at me.

After I got her out of the store, I received a report from someone walking in that a crazy lady was walking out in front of traffic and cussing at everyone. Even though I wasn't a math major in college, I was able to add this particular 2+2. So I went out to find her. She was sitting on some steps, sorting out her condiment packets (that she had taken from the snack area of the store. She looked up and saw me, then called me a (and remember, this is a direct quote) "nigger white trash". Impressive pedigree, no? Well she wasn't done. A few seconds later she said that I was a "nigger motherfucking fascist pig". By that time I had alerted someone in the store to call 911. She grabbed a handful of the mayonnaise and mustard packets that she had spent considerable time organizing, threw them at me, and marched off into the parking lot, where the only thing that kept her from being an addition to the nearby speed bump was the anti-lock brakes on the SUV that she walked right in front of.

The last I heard she was in front of the local high school flashing passers-by. I think the cops got her. But I am not sure.

I love my job.