You always meet the most interesting and significant people
in the most obscure fashions.
I met Dylan on the bus, on the way to court. He didn't seem
at all like someone who needs to ride a bus; he had a black
three-piece suit, a short hair cut with longer hair on the
top of the head, graying above the ears, a James Bond
suitcase, and extremely sexy dimples on both sides of his
cheeks. I'd say he looked 40ish.
I, on the other hand, was a 21 year old college dropout,
dressed in my finest clothes, that didn't help one bit to
hide the fact that I just rolled out of bed.
I usually don't strike up conversations with strangers on
the bus, but we were the only two people on it, and he sat
just two seats away. He was reading The Alchemist by Paulo
Coelho and seemed to be very concentrated.
"You look like someone who could use to read this book", he
said, not raising his eyes from the text.
"I'm not much of a reader", I said, when his eyes fixed on
mine for the first time. He had big hazel eyes that went
along with his dimples pretty well.
No ring on his finger, I thought and smiled to myself.
"So what's a girl like you doing out of school?"
I used to think I was forward, but this guy was way ahead of
me.
"What's a man like you doing without a wedding ring?"
He smiled and nodded his head.
"I'm sorry," I continued, "I don't go to school."
Older men were always my thing. My best friend, a psychology
major, told me it means I didn't have a father figure when I
was young. I hate those out-of-the-book analyses. They never
mean anything, especially coming from someone I grew up with
and attended most of my countless family picnics.
"I'm Dylan, nice to meet you", he said and reached his hand.
He was now sitting right beside me.
"Andy."
We shook hands and I felt a strange warmth coming out of his
hand.
"I think this is the emptiest bus line in the city," he
said, "but I learned one thing from riding this line... I
learned that almost everyone is on his way to court. So tell
me, Andy, what have you done?"
I blushed and gave him a dirty look. I didn't want to send
the wrong message, that I was angry or insulted, it was the
complete opposite. I liked his "brutally honest" attitude.

My psychology major friend, Rachel, had to interview a
mentally disturbed person for her midterm project. It wasn't
my first time in a mental institution. My parents took me to
be examined in one of those when I was 16. I'd been going to
shrinks since I was 7 up until that point, and somewhere
between the two I learned a few things.
The first and basic thing I learned was that "mental" people
are a lot more deep and interesting than any of those who
consider them a threat. Two, when you know that psychology
started from a middle aged-drunk-pedophile, you can't take
any of it too seriously.
So my trip to "Psycho Land" was actually a trip to memory
lane.
Rachel was too organized in her notes for someone who was
going to talk to the most unexpected people.
"They're going to be all over the place. Your cute little
notes aren't gonna help you", I said.
"That's exactly why I need to be focused. And look who's
talking, the expert. Maybe I should just interview you and
get it over with."
'The expert' was the nicest way anyone had ever called me
crazy. When I was 13, I had a fight with my mom. It was
something stupid as always.
"Calm down right now! You're a goddamn lunatic!" she said.
Now, for someone who sent me to shrinks, and probably
believes in all that crap, she should know that when you
discipline a child, you need to make remarks about their
actions, not about THEM. And using words like "goddamn" and
"lunatic" are not very preferable.
That comment marked the time when I learned to block my
mothers words, listen when there's absolutely no other
choice, and make physical contact only after the "I believe
in you, I love you" speech.
So we drove to the mental institution, that ironically
looked very much like my old high school, only positioned in
the middle of nowhere. The closer we got, the more people we
saw outside, walking around in what could have been a nice
playground. Green shiny grass surrounding areas of land.
Some were planting flowers in the edges of the building,
some were walking around like zombies, and some were just
sitting on benches, soaking the sun.
"I think we came right on time. Look, there's a whole party
going on." I said and we laughed.
We went through all four gates, walked in the building and
reached the front desk. Rachel had all those passes ready to
show the clerk, and I tried to think of a time I cared so
much about something. Nothing came to mind, but it wasn't a
surprise. I was hard to entertain, especially in long
periods of time.
Rachel and I walked after one of the nurses to an outside
door, opposite to where we entered the building, leading to
the playground. The hall was bright and colorless, the doors
had no handles, and the windows were barred up.
We stepped outside, to the sun and the grass, and I could
understand how playground time was probably everyone's
favorite time of the day.
"OK, I'm gonna go mingle a little, it won't take long" she
said.
"I think we should check out the bar first."
She smiled and walked away. After a few steps she turned
around and said;
"Don't let them mistake you for one of the patients here,
OK?"
I walked to one of the corners and lit and cigarette. It was
during my fourth one when someone stepped up to me.
"Those things can kill you", said the man in front of me. He
was short, sweaty, with a big smile. His eyes were so small,
it made him look like a Chinese smiley face. His short fat
body made him look like Mr. Potato.
"It's the legal way to go, you know?" I said.
I didn't know if his smile was real or if it was his usual
expression. My joke, anyhow, didn't get any response.
He walked around me, his hands together behind his back, his
head facing downward, like a sharp attorney about to ask the
framing question.
"Can I offer you one of those life shortening things?" I
said after the silence became uncomfortable.
"I Tarzan, you Jane" he said. I put my hand on my mouth and
laughed.
"Actually, my name is Andy. And you?" I said. I wanted to
reach my hand to him, but I was slightly appalled by his
sweat.
He came closer, grabbed the cigarette out of my hand, and
threw on the ground. When he started jumping on it
hysterically, I backed off.
"You Jane, Jane no smoke!" he yelled and kicked some dirt in
my direction.
I looked around, trying to find Rachel or any of the nurses,
but I was in Looney Land, and I was on my own.
When I turned back to face him, he was standing maybe an
inch from me. I tried to take a step back, but he grabbed me
on the shoulders and tried to kiss me. My first reaction was
to slap him, which I did. The fat little man fell on the
ground and started crying. I didn't slap him that hard, and
he seemed pretty steady, but when he held his hand against
his cheek and screamed like a four year old, I knew he was
screaming for attention.
A male nurse came running in our direction.
"Step back!" he yelled, although I was at least a few feet
from the sobbing man. I guess it was routine orders.
The nurse got on his knees and placed the man's hands in his
own.
"Hey there, Tarzan. Let's get you up, OK?" he said in a
soothing voice.
"Tarzan" pulled his hands back violently and yelled "Jane
hit me!"
A security man came running toward the mini-drama, trying to
pave his way through the gathering crowd.
The male nurse, after giving up trying to get Tarzan on his
feet, got up and walked to me.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he said with his eyebrows
stuffed downward above his nose.
"He tried to kiss me, so I slapped him. I had no idea Tarzan
was so sensitive" I said.
"Is this a joke to you, young lady?" he said. Judging by his
appearance, he was only a few years older than I was.
"No, I apologize" I said and walked toward Rachel. She
seemed half amused, half surprised.
"Come back here! You're not going anywhere! The cops will
deal with you!" he said to my back.
I rolled my eyes to Rachel and she lifted her hands,
probably trying to say 'Sorry, can't help you there. This
mess is all yours'.
I walked back into the circle of angry people and stood
there. Everyone had his eyes on me, and I felt like a fire
is going to start around me and I'd have to fight some huge
tiger.
The police showed up ten minutes later. The officer wasn't
as vile as the male nurse, but it didn't stop him from
accusing me of "assault of a disabled person" in the police
station. I got a summon to court, scheduled for two week
later.

"I slapped Tarzan", I said to Dylan.
Dylan listened to the story attentively.
"How long can they lock you up for this?" he said. I didn't
even consider going to jail, but I guess I should have.
"Up to five years, I think. But I think I'll join my Tarzan
long before I ever go to jail."
We were still 15 minutes away from the courthouse. I
suddenly felt the need to look outside the window, try to
remember how everything looked incase I didn't get to see it
for a while.
That was exactly what my parents needed to realize 'we
should have given up on her a long time ago'.

When we drove home from the police station, Rachel said;
"You know, I always looked up to you. I always knew someone
great was about to burst out and you'd prove to me, to your
family, to yourself, to the world - that you are everything
anyone can ever want to be. Someone to aspire for, some to
look up to."
"Yeah, there goes that idea, ha?"
"No, Andy. You just do stupid things sometimes, and you
always get caught. The problem is you never learn from your
mistakes", she said.
I opened the window and lit a cigarette. I felt a long
speech coming.
"Do you regret any of the things you do?"
"No, Rachel. Regret is a waste of time. And I tried to be
what people want me to be; a student, a good friend, a good
daughter, a good everything, but I keep messing it up. Maybe
you should expect nothing, and then you'd be surprised for
the better. Maybe everyone should." I said.
"That's exactly your problem. You expect nothing, so nothing
bothers you. You just don't give a shit about anything. And
you're forgetting that you're not the master of yourself.
You live with your parents, you don't have a job, you don't
go to school. You need responsibility. You need to care."
Rachel said and passed her fingers through her hair,
followed by a big sigh.
"Don't get worked up because of this, OK? I love you, but I
already know all this, and I don't need a pep talk" I said.
Rachel cared, I knew she did, but I felt like an ugly puppy
in a box full of really cute puppies. Everyone patting me on
the head, but no one wants to take me home.

"What's your destination?" said Dylan when he saw I was
getting worried.
"I thought you had that one figured out, Mr. Holmes". I said
and smiled.
"No, I don't mean it like that. What's your destination in
life?"
I took a deep breath and looked away for a second.
"I don't know. Right now I'm hoping not to end up in jail,
to be happy, to be free - something like that."
Dylan kept looking at me, waiting for me to continue. After
a few seconds of silence, the bus driver looked at us in the
mirror and said;
"You guys mind if I turn on the radio?"
"Go right ahead, sir" said Dylan.
The radio was tuned on an oldies station. It played Ozzy
Osbourne's "Mamma I'm Coming Home". Times have changed, and
times are strange, here I come but I ain't the same...
We listened to it and smiled at each other. I felt like he
understood what I was thinking without even using words.
"I want you to give me a real answer. Not what you think I
want to hear, not the answer you always give. Just be
honest", he said.
"I want to win the lottery and move to some quiet little
village in New Zealand. Maybe meet a nice guy, start a
family, and just live. Never worry about anything. I want to
have friends who don't know me or my past. I want to
disappear and start over." I said fluently. I didn't even
stop to think about it, it was just what came out.
Dylan smiled and looked away.
We passed a few yards of loud noise. Construction.
Everything is going under construction these days.
"Let me give you the drop speech. Interested?" he said.
"Of course", I said.
"You're nothing but one drop in the sea, Andy. And you have
to understand-"
"That I have no importance?" I said and interrupted him.
"No, it means you are all that is important. An ocean is
nothing but endless drops put together, you agree, right?"
he said.
I nodded.
"But when you look at the ocean you can't see every drop
individually, because it wouldn't make any sense, and no
matter how hard you try, it's impossible" he said. We didn't
take our eyes off each other.
"If each drop would look at itself as such, it would always
be apart from the ocean, from the whole. When a drop loses
itself in the whole, it becomes everything, it can go
wherever it wants, it can understand how the ocean works" he
continued.
What he said reminded me of those pictures of famous people
they have in libraries. When you get closer, you see that
the picture is actually a collection of tiny pictures put
together to create a face. I liked the drop idea better.
"The ocean could never exist without you. You are
everything's that's important. But in order for you to be
important, you have to be able to understand that there is
no you. When you say you want to be free, you don't have to
run away, you have to free your mind first. Everything is
part of a master-plan." He got up and handed me his card.
"So this is it?" I said.
"For now it is. Give me a call if you ever forget the drop
speech, I'd be more than happy to remind you of it".
He put his sunglasses on, walked to the front door, and
turned to face me.
"Good luck in court", he said and walked out.

Some people can invest all their life in expensive schools,
earning meaningless degrees, disappearing behind huge books.
But some people can just be, can just know, can just be
enlightened without having a title. So maybe their picture
won't be in the library, but one can learn a lot more from
them than anyone hanging from the wall.