He walks in, stares at me with Charles Manson caliber crazy eyes, tells me I'm beautiful, and pulls put his pack of cigarettes. He then slides the cigarettes across the desk to me and asks if I can read him the warning on the side. I look askance at him and then go through the standard surgeon general's warning about how smoking can cause lung cancer and death and such and look up to be met with more crazy eyes. Crazy eyes for days. He stares at me for an awkwardly long period of time, and then says, "Well. All that stuff on there. I hope that does happen to me. Cause then I'll die, and I'll see you."
So, he scampers off back to the treatment area, where I assume he belongs since he's obviously crazy, blowing me kisses the whole time. I don't think a lot of it until one of our cops sees him outside later and starts telling me he is actually a family member of an admitted patient. They apparently had to go talk to him the night before that because he was going outside and rounding up a bunch of homeless dudes and letting them get the free coffee and sleep on the floor of his wife's room.
Wowzer. Hanging out with your buddies and hitting on ladies? Free food and coffee? It's like an all-inclusive resort up in here.