I didn't sleep much Saturday night, had the alarm set for 6:30a, woke up at 4a- the anticipation is not a healthy, normal feeling, it's feelings of virtual dread.
Friends arrive at 7:30, we take my car, plans are to have us womenfolk in the back seat, her husband is driving my car. He's armed. I'm not. I'm thinking, too many weapons might NOT be a good idea. Time for everyone to act natural, like picking someone up, packing their few belongings, slamming them onto a bus for another coast is just an everyday occurrence. Right, got it.
We arrive at the house, the door is locked and I did remember to bring the key with me, but the back door is open so I stick my head in and yell, "Dan, are you up?"
He's still in bed. I yell again, "Dan! You have to get up, we need to go, the plans have changed and I have a ticket to get you to NYC!" I go through the house to the front door, open it to let my friends in, we start packing his stuff (laptop, cables and a few other things). I'm grabbing his insulin and other meds out of the refrigerator, putting those out so they aren't forgotten.
He wanders out of the bedroom and says, "Do I have time to take a shower?"
"No, just wash your face, you are scheduled to depart in just a little while, so we need to get moving!" (I purposely left "bus" out of any comments until we got close enough to the bus station).
We are throwing things together while he's doing God knows what in the bathroom, I'm not going to allow for any distractions, this dude is freakin' OUT OF HERE.
Dan finally appears from the bathroom and he says, "What happened?"
I hate to lie. I really detest dishonesty. I hate playing games. I hate to put on a performance, period. Sometimes, we find ourselves in those positions that really require a "massive dose of pure bullshit" in order to save ourselves and I poured it on like a pro.
"The Best Clinic on the Planet notified me that they were not going to take new patients and thought it best that you go back to your original doctor who did your transplant and consult with him concerning treatment, so I managed to get you a ticket to NYC and fortunately, my friends here were going that way and are coming along with us!"
I lied like a rug, so sue me. I truly did the Best Clinic on the Planet a huge, huge favor in the long run, even the majority of the taxpayers in this country a favor, really. The future waste of money, time and God knows what else was getting nipped in the bud and I'm putting on the performance of a lifetime. But, it's working....... he's participating in the packing of his few belongings and we are on our way out the door!
We get to the car, I say, "You ride in the front, Dan, with my friend, who will be driving, us women will sit in the back"
Remember, I'm dealing with a true Narcissistic Personality and classic symptoms include (believe me, I was thoroughly researching this disorder immediately AFTER his arrival):
I'm feeling fairly secure he's not going to put up a fight, argue or anything else that would ruin his fragile self-image, simply due to the fact, he's in the company of strangers and outnumbered.
We are on our way- a 40 minute drive to the bus station, my friend is driving a tad over the speed limit and I'm worrying to death we are going to have something really stupid happen, like a flat tire. The three of us (not Dan, mind you) are making small talk, acting abnormally normal. Yap, yap about trivial crap, local gossip and "oh man, isn't it a nice day?" Which it truly was. It was seriously one of the best days in my Dark Comedy of a Life.
I'm literally PRAYING that we don't get a flat or end up in a vehicular incident with some other jerk on the road. I'm thinking the worst of things, worrying that some karmic monkey wrench is going to be slammed into the proverbial windshield as we are traveling down the highway to the bus station.
Three quarters of the way to the bus station, he says something about a "flight" and I immediately reply, "I got you a bus ticket". He doesn't react, he's cool. He's screwed, because as God is my witness, this dude is getting ON THAT BUS.
The bus station isn't open for another 30 minutes and we arrive at 8:45a or so, the bus is scheduled to depart at 10a, I was told on Sunday to be there one hour early. I don't see any TSA agents around the bus station, so we sit outside, making small talk in the little park with a lovely fountain that contains blue dye in it. I whip out my little Canon Elph (yeah, I left the big boys home- no need in dragging expensive cameras around when the potential for weirdness is looking at you in the face) and start taking pictures of the fountain. Dan notices I'm taking photos....... and predictably, he's moving towards the camera. I indulge him, mainly for the benefit of his cousin, who hasn't seen him in 10 years.
The bus station, which is also the Amtrak station, opens. We all move back inside, the clerk inside the enclosed kiosk is elderly, moves like he's in the third stages of rigor mortis. I'm observing him pecking on the keyboard, with his middle finger, finding the correct keys so slowly I just want to scream. My patience is wearing very thin and considering the last 5 days of coping with one of the most bizarre individuals that I've ever encountered, listening to his skewed perceptions on life, himself, his children, himself, his "work", himself, his transplant, himself, his Rabbi, himself...........
The clerk at the bus ticket kiosk is slowing pecking away, taking care of another passenger and I'm standing in line, waiting on my turn and finally, after at least 10 minutes (trust me, this dude was slower than molasses in January), I say, "I need to pick up a ticket for Dan So and So, destination, NYC."
"Where the passenger?" I point to Dan and then the ticket agent hands me a form, which has yesterdays date on it and says, "He needs to sign this". I'm literally hanging ON to the form, with my thumb OVER the date of purchase while Dan signs the form, then the ticket agent who really is in dire need of retirement, starts pecking slowly away at the keyboard again, moving
through
the
fields
of
the
software
and
various
menus,
so
the
ticket
will
print.
I just want to bust through that door, shove this old boy aside and show him how to run that computer. I take a deep, deep breath and force myself to chill out. We're almost there.
Time to get back on the stage and play the role. I pull the only cash I have left from my wallet, $25.00 and walk over to Dan and hand it to him- "Here's some money, so you can get something to eat on your way to NYC." He takes it and merely states, "Yeah, I need some money". Which follows with, "I had been looking online at tickets, you know, I was thinking of going back to New York and I really wanted to go back to New York, I would have never made it here for a year". I'm empathetic and reply in a very caring, nice manner, "I know how you feel, there isn't much activity here on the farm " (all while I'm thinking, "No shit, I would have ended up killing you and feeding you to some hogs before another week was up")
The bus finally arrives, there is a God.
People come boiling out of the bus, lighting up and taking a short break- we are all standing around the door, just waiting for the driver to take Dan's bag, shove it underneath the bus and Dan spots 3 Hispanic chicks. He immediately walks away from us, over to the these girls, young enough to be his daughters and starts chatting them up.
My friends and I are looking at each other, his behavior and desperately trying not to crack up. I state, in a very low, quiet tone, "Well, that will keep him on the bus." I'm feeling better about this every single second that goes by. The bus driver is just about ready to load the passengers. I can hardly contain my joy.
Dan walks back over, as he's about to board the bus and says, "Tell your husband thanks for everything". I'm chopped liver, but hey, I'm happy to be chopped liver. Really. Then, he says, "When my laptop arrives, you will send it to me?"
"Of course, however, when you arrive in New York, email me an address, so I can send it and any other mail that arrives"
The bus is boarding. I repeat to Dan, "Be sure and send me a physical address when you get there so I can send you your laptop and mail"
He gets on the bus, the door finally shuts. The bus starts pulling out and I want my Academy Award now, thank you.
Friends arrive at 7:30, we take my car, plans are to have us womenfolk in the back seat, her husband is driving my car. He's armed. I'm not. I'm thinking, too many weapons might NOT be a good idea. Time for everyone to act natural, like picking someone up, packing their few belongings, slamming them onto a bus for another coast is just an everyday occurrence. Right, got it.
We arrive at the house, the door is locked and I did remember to bring the key with me, but the back door is open so I stick my head in and yell, "Dan, are you up?"
He's still in bed. I yell again, "Dan! You have to get up, we need to go, the plans have changed and I have a ticket to get you to NYC!" I go through the house to the front door, open it to let my friends in, we start packing his stuff (laptop, cables and a few other things). I'm grabbing his insulin and other meds out of the refrigerator, putting those out so they aren't forgotten.
He wanders out of the bedroom and says, "Do I have time to take a shower?"
"No, just wash your face, you are scheduled to depart in just a little while, so we need to get moving!" (I purposely left "bus" out of any comments until we got close enough to the bus station).
We are throwing things together while he's doing God knows what in the bathroom, I'm not going to allow for any distractions, this dude is freakin' OUT OF HERE.
Dan finally appears from the bathroom and he says, "What happened?"
I hate to lie. I really detest dishonesty. I hate playing games. I hate to put on a performance, period. Sometimes, we find ourselves in those positions that really require a "massive dose of pure bullshit" in order to save ourselves and I poured it on like a pro.
"The Best Clinic on the Planet notified me that they were not going to take new patients and thought it best that you go back to your original doctor who did your transplant and consult with him concerning treatment, so I managed to get you a ticket to NYC and fortunately, my friends here were going that way and are coming along with us!"
I lied like a rug, so sue me. I truly did the Best Clinic on the Planet a huge, huge favor in the long run, even the majority of the taxpayers in this country a favor, really. The future waste of money, time and God knows what else was getting nipped in the bud and I'm putting on the performance of a lifetime. But, it's working....... he's participating in the packing of his few belongings and we are on our way out the door!
We get to the car, I say, "You ride in the front, Dan, with my friend, who will be driving, us women will sit in the back"
Remember, I'm dealing with a true Narcissistic Personality and classic symptoms include (believe me, I was thoroughly researching this disorder immediately AFTER his arrival):
- He or she has a grandiose sense of self-importance (exaggerates
accomplishments and demands to be considered superior without real
evidence of achievement). - He or she lives in a dream world of exceptional success, power, beauty, genius, or "perfect" love.
- He or she thinks of him- or herself as "special" or privileged, and that he or she can only be understood by other special or high-status people.
- He or she demands excessive amounts of praise or admiration from others.
- He or she feels entitled to automatic deference, compliance, or favorable treatment from others.
- He or she is exploitative towards others and takes advantage of them.
- He or she lacks empathy and does not recognize or identify with others' feelings.
- He or she is frequently envious of others or thinks that they are envious of him or her.
- He or she "has an attitude" or frequently acts in haughty or arrogant ways.
I'm feeling fairly secure he's not going to put up a fight, argue or anything else that would ruin his fragile self-image, simply due to the fact, he's in the company of strangers and outnumbered.
We are on our way- a 40 minute drive to the bus station, my friend is driving a tad over the speed limit and I'm worrying to death we are going to have something really stupid happen, like a flat tire. The three of us (not Dan, mind you) are making small talk, acting abnormally normal. Yap, yap about trivial crap, local gossip and "oh man, isn't it a nice day?" Which it truly was. It was seriously one of the best days in my Dark Comedy of a Life.
I'm literally PRAYING that we don't get a flat or end up in a vehicular incident with some other jerk on the road. I'm thinking the worst of things, worrying that some karmic monkey wrench is going to be slammed into the proverbial windshield as we are traveling down the highway to the bus station.
Three quarters of the way to the bus station, he says something about a "flight" and I immediately reply, "I got you a bus ticket". He doesn't react, he's cool. He's screwed, because as God is my witness, this dude is getting ON THAT BUS.
The bus station isn't open for another 30 minutes and we arrive at 8:45a or so, the bus is scheduled to depart at 10a, I was told on Sunday to be there one hour early. I don't see any TSA agents around the bus station, so we sit outside, making small talk in the little park with a lovely fountain that contains blue dye in it. I whip out my little Canon Elph (yeah, I left the big boys home- no need in dragging expensive cameras around when the potential for weirdness is looking at you in the face) and start taking pictures of the fountain. Dan notices I'm taking photos....... and predictably, he's moving towards the camera. I indulge him, mainly for the benefit of his cousin, who hasn't seen him in 10 years.
The bus station, which is also the Amtrak station, opens. We all move back inside, the clerk inside the enclosed kiosk is elderly, moves like he's in the third stages of rigor mortis. I'm observing him pecking on the keyboard, with his middle finger, finding the correct keys so slowly I just want to scream. My patience is wearing very thin and considering the last 5 days of coping with one of the most bizarre individuals that I've ever encountered, listening to his skewed perceptions on life, himself, his children, himself, his "work", himself, his transplant, himself, his Rabbi, himself...........
The clerk at the bus ticket kiosk is slowing pecking away, taking care of another passenger and I'm standing in line, waiting on my turn and finally, after at least 10 minutes (trust me, this dude was slower than molasses in January), I say, "I need to pick up a ticket for Dan So and So, destination, NYC."
"Where the passenger?" I point to Dan and then the ticket agent hands me a form, which has yesterdays date on it and says, "He needs to sign this". I'm literally hanging ON to the form, with my thumb OVER the date of purchase while Dan signs the form, then the ticket agent who really is in dire need of retirement, starts pecking slowly away at the keyboard again, moving
through
the
fields
of
the
software
and
various
menus,
so
the
ticket
will
print.
I just want to bust through that door, shove this old boy aside and show him how to run that computer. I take a deep, deep breath and force myself to chill out. We're almost there.
Time to get back on the stage and play the role. I pull the only cash I have left from my wallet, $25.00 and walk over to Dan and hand it to him- "Here's some money, so you can get something to eat on your way to NYC." He takes it and merely states, "Yeah, I need some money". Which follows with, "I had been looking online at tickets, you know, I was thinking of going back to New York and I really wanted to go back to New York, I would have never made it here for a year". I'm empathetic and reply in a very caring, nice manner, "I know how you feel, there isn't much activity here on the farm " (all while I'm thinking, "No shit, I would have ended up killing you and feeding you to some hogs before another week was up")
The bus finally arrives, there is a God.
People come boiling out of the bus, lighting up and taking a short break- we are all standing around the door, just waiting for the driver to take Dan's bag, shove it underneath the bus and Dan spots 3 Hispanic chicks. He immediately walks away from us, over to the these girls, young enough to be his daughters and starts chatting them up.
My friends and I are looking at each other, his behavior and desperately trying not to crack up. I state, in a very low, quiet tone, "Well, that will keep him on the bus." I'm feeling better about this every single second that goes by. The bus driver is just about ready to load the passengers. I can hardly contain my joy.
Dan walks back over, as he's about to board the bus and says, "Tell your husband thanks for everything". I'm chopped liver, but hey, I'm happy to be chopped liver. Really. Then, he says, "When my laptop arrives, you will send it to me?"
"Of course, however, when you arrive in New York, email me an address, so I can send it and any other mail that arrives"
The bus is boarding. I repeat to Dan, "Be sure and send me a physical address when you get there so I can send you your laptop and mail"
He gets on the bus, the door finally shuts. The bus starts pulling out and I want my Academy Award now, thank you.
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