Crazy Man just walked into the bar, hair braided, long, very fuzzy, three layers of clothing on including a worn green baseball cap stuffed up his sleeve. He finds a chair and yells almost coherently at the girl setting up the harp to play it, "SLOW, SLOW". As he sits down he peels off the coat, drops his giant leather encased cell phone, picks that up and peels off his inner shirt and drops the hat. Picks that up too. As he is peeling off the second shirt his tee shirt rides up and his giant stomach sticks out. Makes you want to poke it to hear him go "hmmm, hmmmmm" like the Pillsbury Doughboy. He listens somewhat quietly to the harp tune and, is rather appreciative when it ends. As the next song, a reel, starts he begins to wriggle around in his chair like his back hurts; he seems to consider this dancing. As he wiggles he stretches his arms wide and the shirt again rides up. Lovely, his stomach is all pale and hairy. The reel ends and Crazy Man yet again yells his appreciation only less coherently this time. His ‘dancing’ gets more enthusiastic as the next song starts and he begins to alternately pick one leg up and then the other while occasionally hollering. Oh wait, now he has two hats. A black toque has joined its’ green baseball friend. First one and then the other goes on his head.

When Rory O’More starts he looks confused. This song isn’t fast. He cocks his head quizzically to the side pondering the words. They have words in songs now? Ah, the beat picks up and he proceeds to chair-dance again. He now has a hat in each hand and seems to be trying to conduct the band with arms stretched wide behind his back. Interesting technique. The other patrons watch in amusement as he alternately stomps his feet, waves his arms, shouts, wiggles, tries his hats on (sometimes both at once), and claps. This man is a genius. He can do like 15 weird things at once. As Rory O’More approaches its end he stands and turns to face the audience and just stares. Standing rigidly for a moment. Then he very determinedly turns around and sits back down. Woo hoo! Crazy people are fun. They remind me that contrary to what the people on the subway look like not everyone is dead inside. I would in face bet that there are at least three people inside this guy.

So another harp tune begins. He has decided to clap along and stomp too except; he can’t quite manage to coordinate his extremities and sounds rather off. As the rest of the bank picks up the song he stomps and claps harder. Still out of sync. Wow. He sure has the beat. He gets up and two-steps to the left a few paces and then to the right and walks off, presumably to find the bathroom. On his return he re-dons his shirt, coat, black hat and sits back down while clapping with the green hat in his hand so the sound is muffled. He tries to step dance in his seat as he claps the hat. It essentially looks like he is trying too put out a fire underneath his feat.

When I look up again he is gone. Green hat sitting by itself on an empty seat in front of where he had been sitting. Oh wait, he’s watching people play pool in the corner. Giving them advice on proper cue technique. Funny, they don’t seem thrilled. He returns and continues to periodically shout out incomprehensible instructions on how to play the music. The band, while acknowledging him between songs and speaking too him are laughing at him. He doesn’t get it, and proceeds to do his wiggle-dance standing up for a few minutes before resuming his seat.

We have reached the break between sets and he stands up to approach the harpist. She doesn’t seem exactly pleased to see him. She nods at what he says while slowly backing away wishing him a good night. Dejected he returns to his seat and seems to fall asleep. No, he’s not asleep; he appears to have developed a fondness for yelling out "wench" and "shit" randomly. Bars are fun. He is most interested by the voices in his own head and nods vigorously to himself. They seem to be prompting him to get the drummers attention. The drummer ignores him. Honestly I would too.

Ah, all is quiet now in the break and Crazy Man is conversing quietly with himself. Nodding periodically and muttering. Oh, the fun. He says he’s tired. Awwww. He tells the voices that he doesn’t want to go home yet. I was at first kidding about the voices but, they seem real enough now. As the break progresses he commences inching his chair closer to the table behind him, while talking and muttering. He moves in between the front my table and the table of girls to my right. As he does this he starts to carry on an entirely one-sided conversation with them about a car. They ignore him completely and he continues to carry on this conversation for almost five minutes. Finally giving up he tries the table in front of me and the girls quietly get up and leave.

As fun as Crazy Man has been I have to admit he is starting to make me nervous. The table of guys he is now speaking too is ignoring him as well. They do so until he reaches over and tries to take one of their drinks. They protest feebly but, don’t appear to want to anger him. He doesn’t actually take the drink. Instead he sits back in his seat and stares around. A few minutes later he shouts out "asshole!" and then gets quiet again. He looks around for another minute gets up, and walks out of the bar. There is a general sigh of relief and some nervous laughter from those he had been sitting closest too. What everyone had initially found funny and turned rather sad. I guess it is only harmless amusement until it gets creepy and the laughter turns discordant. Funny that. Still it was pretty [fucking] funny watching him wiggle-dance in his seat like that.