I am weird and I admit it.
Fortunately I have friends who don’t object to my weirdness.
The weirdest thing I’ve ever done – and my nearest and dearest may wish to contest this, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind – is to attend a party wearing a jester’s hat (red and yellow motley, with bells on) and while there, embark on a fly-killing spree.
Yes, I am the Death of Flies (also Ants, Fleas, and Other Parasitical Insects).
I make up for the Caped Gooseberry’s extreme pacifism by wreaking wholesale slaughter on the pestilential creatures whenever they cross my path.
The party in question was held at a house that seems to be regarded by flies as the paradise of paradises: warm, airy, and with lots of high ceilings where people can’t get at you with fly swats.
Over the course of the evening, with the assistance of a rolled-up newspaper, I managed to kill over a hundred flies. And how did my friends react? Being, as they are, such excellent and eccentric-friendly people, they pointed out the flies I had missed (or rather, hadn’t seen yet) – particularly if conveniently resting on someone else – and raised a ragged cheer when I hit the century.
There are two lessons to be drawn from this:
1) why hide your weirdness? if you aren’t the kind of person who likes to make small talk with strangers at a party, do something else to make it a memorable evening.
2) choose your friends carefully. Friends who accept you as you are are worth their weight in gold.