It's Kind of Like a Chinese Fire Drill

We knew better. So really it was kind of our fault. Because we knew better.

All three guys had appointments for a wellness check yesterday morning. (They go every two months to the company clinic.) Because things have been going relatively well, we thought we could all jump in the van and ride up there together. But deep down, we knew better.

We made it maybe a mile down the road when it started. It was simple enough at first. A mere "I hate you" and a "I gonna beat you up" quickly became a "I gonna kill you." I got up and went and sat down beside the unhappy one. He acted like he was going to hit me but then smiled and said, "Want a kiss?" I replied with my standard line, "No, remember friends don't kiss, friends shake hands. Want to shake hands?" He smiled and replied, "No. Ima beat him up" referring to the guy in the front seat.

And being a man of his word, he began the hitting and kicking. I was practically on top of him trying to stop him and keep him from hitting our day staff, who happened to be driving. She pulled off on the side of the road and everybody else jumped out of the van. When he calmed a little, we rearranged our seating so that he was in the very back with staff, I was in front of them, and the other two guys were in the way front. He continued threatening but didn't try anything else.

As all this was going on, the intended victim was doing a good job of ignoring this maladaptive behavior. But the other guy insisted on egging him on a little. He sat in his seat repeating, "Psycho, he's a psycho. Needs some more of his crazy meds."

Um, yeah, hard to argue with that. Every day is a little bit psycho.