The lady behind me is crazy

Seriously, this chick is certifiably nuts.

And let me tell you, when there's someone crazy sitting behind you, rather than next to you, you are in a much better position to assess their mental instability.

When she sat next to me - in two memorable instances that I'd rather have wiped from my brain - I was simply too frightened to comprehend her ramblings. She has a good 100 lbs. on me and I lapsed into New York crazy person defense mode (or NYCPM) - do not move an inch, pretend to read your book, and make contingency plans for when they attack.

I didn't think I'd have to use NYCPM while on a suburban light rail line in Pennsylvania, but things happen.

When she sat down behind me (and, by the way, I never looked to see who it was; I just knew), I felt at least a little relieved that she had found a seat all her own. But then, being free of her, I was able to really hone in on the conversation. Here's a little piece:

Oh, you're a good girl. Good girl, yes. Who's there? Daddy? Oh, no Mommy. Mommy won't like that. No. Good girl.

I wish I had a recorder. It was kind of like Gollum, if he had the voice of that weird little woman from Poltergeist.

This shit really doesn't help my commute.