Crazy Hat Lady (May I henceforth refer to Crazy Hat Lady as CHL? Yes, I thought so, thanks.) first showed up in my lobby a few years ago, with a little ragamuffin Benji-type whoknowswhat young-ish adult female adoptee. This poor little dog is about the WORST candidate for rescue by a CHL. She's sweet but very poorly socialized, and really could use a good leader in her life. Aside from the fact she's literally easy to follow in a crowd because of the ridiculous headgear she's invariably donning, CHL a good leader is NOT. The poor dog is a nervous wreck and I really wish I could just prescribe a new owner. But this post isn't about poor little mal-adjusted Benjiesque foundling. It's about CHL, isn't it?
Every practice must have a CHL. Nay, every BUSINESS. In fact, at one point I hired a new receptionist who'd been working at the local Burger King. When she discovered CHL was a client, and that we'd named her CHL, she said, "Oh my GOD! That's what we called her at BURGER KING too!" Crazy Hat Lady is an archetype, indeed.
MY CHL is special, though. In addition to the huge collection of insane, HUGE, handmade, often knit hats (always with GIANT flowers), she has an enormous mass of unruly frizzy hair poking out from underneath. She has a lovely orange spray-tan glow about her ever-so-slightly toad-like face, and usually bright orange or red lipstick that looks like a five-year-old has applied it. I use the term "lipstick" loosely, as it's generally only partly limited to her LIPS. Oh, let's not forget to mention the eyeliner. Black liquid liner. About a millimeter SOUTH of the lower lids. Yep. None where it actually SHOULD be, up on the upper lids. But the MOST special thing about my CHL is her conversational style.
Consider a chicken. A chicken that's very, VERY interested in some item or object. Here, this will help:
Or, even better, THIS: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vcQwy3Dn4Y
THAT is how my CHL looks at me when she's waiting for me to answer some insane and completely off-subject question she's just inserted into the conversation.
Me: "So, as I said, little NotBenji here is starting to develop some dental disease..."
CHL: "Do you think she's ever had children? Can you tell if she's had children??" <cocks head at impossible angle to the right as eyes simultaneously bulge slightly out of their orbits>
Me: "Well, as we've discussed before, I can't tell that. In fact, we're still not even sure whether she's spayed or not, since you've declined diagnostics..."
CHL: "REALLY??" <head to left> "I think she really misses her mate. You know my roommate moved out and took away her little mate. She misses him." <head back to right, as hat threatens to shake loose and fly across the room>
Me: "Well, adding another dog to the family should be undertaken with a lot of forethought..."
CHL: "REALLY?" <head tips up with a slight left-ish rotation, left eyebrow up, purses lips>
Me: <sigh>...
I get through those appointments by reminding myself that, if my family tree is any indication, I will very likely be a crazy old lady someday and someone else will have to put up with it. So I'm just paying my dues now.
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