“Why do you come here? Do you really want to know?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know. What’s so funny about that?”
He stifled a guffaw far enough to avoid drawing attention. Not enough to hide the guffaw from me.
“If you knew, you wouldn’t be here. You’d be banging on the door of the nearest psychiatrist and begging for thorazine.”
I hadn’t asked for this. I just wanted to buy a carton of milk and go home.
“First you tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. Now you tell me I’m insane.”
I was annoyed, which was the only reason I was still talking to this halfwit. I’ve never been good at walking away from an argument.
“I didn’t say you were insane. I said you would be if you knew. Look around you. Tell me why any sane person would come here.”
“Because I choose to!”
It was an effort not to shout.
“Of course you did. But do you know why you choose to?”
“Look around. It’s obvious.”
I spun on my heel, waving at our surroundings.
“Only if you think about it,” he said. “You never do.”
I completed my spin with a triumphant look. I was alone.
“Now you know.”