Saturday, November 25, 2017

Wacky People I’ve Met: Rapunzel’s Boyfriend

Long-time readers might remember how, about three years ago, I regaled you all with the tale of Tide Bottle Pee Man, a wacky person I met at Venice Beach, California. At the time that I wrote about Tide Bottle Pee Man, I’d meant to continue the series Wacky People I’ve Met with more stories, but then I guess I forgot about it – until recently, when I was looking through an old list of blog post ideas I’d made and I came across this one: Rapunzel’s Boyfriend.

I met Rapunzel’s Boyfriend in Davis, California in late 2004. I was traveling through with a friend, and we were violating the local open container laws when we met Rapunzel’s Boyfriend.

Now, if you don’t know me in real life – or maybe even if you do – there’s something you need to know about me. Whenever a group of people I’m with encounters a real nutcase, it always falls to me to interact with that nutcase. I don’t know why – maybe my friends consider me the best at interacting with nutcases, or maybe I need new friends. Maybe both.

Like a lot of wackos, Rapunzel’s Boyfriend didn’t seem like a wacko at first. I was sitting there, cross-legged, talking to him, and yeah, he seemed intense. He had short blonde hair and a face that seemed permanently puckered. He wore a gold crucifix on a long chain, and a flannel shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater. He leaned forward as he spoke to me, with passionate fervor, of the love of his life.

“I’ve been with this girl for years,” the young man said, with a serious and burning gaze that did not seem like that of a man in love. “We’re in love. We’re going to get married, as soon as she gets free.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, smiling and nodding as if this were a perfectly normal thing to say. Maybe, you’re thinking, his young lady was in prison. But I was there, dear reader, and it was obvious that was not what he meant. “That sounds great!” I said. “Congratulations!”

“Her father has her locked in a tower,” the young man said, eyes still flashing. Yes, he said tower. No, I am not making this up.

“That sucks,” I said, “what are you going to do?”

The young man ignored this question. “Do you want to see her picture?” he asked me instead.

“Of course!” I said, chirpily.

At this, the young man reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. It was one of those trifold black leather wallets with a clear slot for a picture, and in that picture slot was a wallet-sized picture that was hand-drawn. I could tell it was hand-drawn because it was drawn badly. It was like a little kid’s drawing of a princess in a tower. It looked kind of like this:

Complete with bars and everything.
“Wow,” I said, voice dripping with sincerity. “She’s beautiful.”

Later, after Rapunzel’s Boyfriend has left, my friend asked me, “What was that guy talking to you about? He seemed intense.”

“You’ll never guess,” I said, and told him about the picture. We laughed about it at the time, but looking back on it, I really hope that young man was f*cking with me.