The Golden Age Of Crazy

(My best friend and I are at a small café. My friend drops and bottle lid on the floor, I pick it up. Soon after, a man approaches us.)

Man: *to friend* “Excuse me, do you have a grandmother?”

Friend: “Uh… yes?”

Man: “If your grandmother slipped on a bottle lid and broke her hip, you’d be sad, right?”

Friend: “Yeah, but…”

Man: “If she broke her hip, she’d probably die. How would you feel to know that you killed your grandmother?!”

Me: “Please, stop talking to her that way. She hasn’t killed her grandmother, and there’s no bottle lids on the floor.”

Man: *shouting* “But, there was before! She dropped it! She could have killed a grandmother!”

(The manager comes over to ask the man to calm down.)

Manager: “Sir, what seems to be the problem?”

Man: *literally sobbing* “These girls killed all the grandmothers!”

Manager: “Sir, I assure you that they haven’t killed any grandmoth–”

Man: “There’s a grandmother out there by the road! You see her?”

(He runs out side and does a tackle dive in front of an old lady.)

Man: “I’ll protect you, Gran!”

(He hugs her. The old lady hits the man with her handbag and walks away.)