Original article posted by thewendy:

Sunday night.
Formerly Blue Katz Coffee shop- the only place I seem to be able to write well in the city.
Typical Crazy.
Brook he calls himself.
Babbeling Brook.
First indication of crazy: He came up behind me and began to whisper a poem by Yeats in my ear in this smoker’s raspy voice.
-I am restraining myself from spraying my mace that I am clutching under the table as the skin on my neck is going into creepy vibe convulsions.
-I am loving cell phones as the one my mother insists I carry, rings.
Monday Night
-I am loving my little sister for providing me with the distraction of a phone call that allows me to leave the coffee shop tonight before the crazy who has just entered the shop talks to me.
CREEEEEPY. And no writing done tonight.
Sunday- by the time he was done ranting to me about poetry and the public education system and the hot springs I should go to with him where we could swim naked- I am feeling so violated that I ask friend who works at the shop to walk me to my truck. Just in case.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: I need a sign
You know that Rowsdower and Myself will wipe the floor with these people. Maybe I should take a trip up there and hang around with you in public places and glare menacingly at all males. I’ll get in a fake fight with Rowsdower and defeat him utterly and then shoot more glares at guys in that oh so masculine “She’s mine you fucks” way.
But I don’t think that you will appreiciate that much.

Nickname: gandhi2
the thing about chivalry is…
chivalry was probably invented so that there would be a socially accepted method for beating the shit out of guys who didn’t understand when to leave girls alone. there’d be a few words bantered about defending m’lady’s honor, blah, blah, everybody would suit up in metal cans, then the good guys would give the bad guys a good thrashing, with ironic smiles hidden all the while behind visors. ivanhoe–classic example. the bad guys won’t leave the fair jewish maiden alone, she’s a witch, burn her, and etc. the good guy comes in and wipes the floor with them, knowing that he’s allowed himself to be brandished by her like a billy club. (feminists can make whatever remarks are needed here, but i retort with “does a kick to the junk demean the kicker, making her weak because she’s playing on her assailant’s weakness? or is it just an effective use of resources….”)

the problem with being such a good person that you represent an ideal is that people either want to protect you or destroy you…

Nickname: Olorle
Re: I need a sign
There’s always at least all of us down here ready to charge off galantly to someone’s rescue if we need to. Or there’s a vague possibility that we might need to. Remember that.