CHARISMATIC MEGAFAUNA

By Quiconque

Don't get me started
2004-05-19

Hello, My Name is Quiconque, and I�m a Psychopath

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me well that I scored a big old 41 on Benrik�s psycho test. According to Sooner, I should run to the nearest police house and insist that they lock me up for my future crimes against humanity.

Where did I go wrong? Well, my twin downfalls seem to be megalomania and lack of impulse control. These traits will stand me in good stead once my regime comes to power (just you wait), but for now they are more than a little inconvenient. Prima and I describe my frequent bursts of antisocial behavior as, "Going Werewolf." I'm sure a clinician would come up with a different term. Some examples of my psychopathology:

When the clerk at Macy�s took far too long to acknowledge my presence at her otherwise empty counter, I threw the umbrella I was trying to purchase across the store and stormed out.

In fifth grade, during an assembly, I took the belt off my coat and whacked the girl sitting next to me across the face because she was talking so loudly that I could not hear the performance.

Last year I cuffed a man in the subway because he elbowed me in the head ("accidentally," but I knew better). My hand flew out and my fist connected with his neck. What was I thinking? Well, at the time, I was thinking quite a bit: �Oh shit, what am I doing? I�d better get out of this train fast because I really don�t want to be a part of whatever it is I�ve started here. I hope my cousin knows how to take care of herself because I am going to book it to the other side of the platform NOW!� Meanwhile, my cousin, Super Fudge, gave the guy a look that said, �I cannot believe what this complete stranger who was only standing next to me but is not connected to me in any way just did to you. That�s messed up,� and fled the subway car.

Most recently, I found myself on Park Avenue in the middle of the night, yelling into a pay phone and stomping my feet like a small child because the person to whom I�d lent my cell phone had forgotten to return it. No matter that I almost never use my cell phone and would not have needed it that evening. (I was able to calm myself down, even before he biked up and gave me back the phone. Not only did I apologize profusely both to his face and on his voicemail, I gave him a conciliatory hamantaschen as big as his fist.)

I have been invited to participate in a Women�s Shooting Sports League event next week. I will not go. I have long described myself as the poster child for gun control. I know myself. Someone�s going to cut me on line, or bump into me, or just take too long to do their job, and it�s best that I not have a gun in my hand while that�s going on. Otherwise, I won�t need to turn myself in to the police; they will happily make a house call.

Editor�s Note: Quiconque has friends in the Queens DA�s office. If Quiconque suggests an impromptu trip to Queens, you�d do well to think twice before accepting.


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LISTENING TO: Nothing, my piece of crap discman broke yesterday. My throwing it to the ground might have contributed.

READING: HP3. Remus Lupin is my husband. Can you figure out why?

WATCHING: Angel finale. Yeah, I already know I'll be disappointed.

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