I have had some encounters in my life that would indicate that I am some sort of magnet for the mentally unwell. Perhaps I should write a series of entries just on that topic. But, for now, here's the latest... Not too long ago, my friend Ed and I were eating lunch at a nearby taco place. There was guacamole. It was tasty. All was right with the world. That is, until we had some company. A woman approached our table and, though I couldn't quite understand what she was saying, motioned as if to take one of our vacant chairs. I nodded, thinking that she would take the chair and wander off to her own table. I was a bit surprised when she sat down and started talking. I couldn't tell who, if anyone, she was addressing. She wasn't looking at me, or anyone else for that matter. I was only able to make out one word: modesty. Was this a commentary on my wardrobe? Was she Amish? Was she a Mormon? Was she completely insane? Then, she asked two men at a nearby table if she could have some of their chips. They said no and she replied that she was just kidding. It was at this point that Ed and I, having finished our tacos, exchanged an alarmed glance and decided, very quickly, to abandon our table and go get coffee. I hope she enjoyed the the chips that we left behind.