​Maybe you’ve met this type of guy before. He exists. Similar humans lurk in homes and businesses around the world. Here’s his story.
 
Last week, I was on a customer call with a coworker. We do this a lot, going into businesses, getting to know what they do, and pitching them on how we can help them protect their assets. We meet a ton of new people, and their stories are always different.
 
From what they do to what they believe, we get a dose of the huge diversity of thought and business lines that exist in a mid-major city’s metro area. Everyone has a story.

This guy’s was wild. We walked in. He had a box cutter, kneeling on the floor, slicing up the cardboard to pull out pieces for stools that he was putting together. I looked around as my coworker engaged him.
 
Slowly, I dialed into the conversation and the guy (let’s call him Doug) began talking rapidly and gesturing wildly. Conspiracy theories abounded. The U.S. government sent its military into Afghanistan to capture the heroin trade, which has all been transported back to our country and used to addict a whole new generation.
 
Doug turned to me, “YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!!!!!” I wasn’t sure what he meant, but it had something to do with news, fabricating facts and information being manipulated.
 
“It’s 1984 by George Orwell that we’re living in. YOU KNOW IT,” he said.
 
I countered that he should reread Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451,” but that didn’t mollify him.  “NO, IT’S “Brave New World’ WE’RE LIVING IN NOW,” he shouted.
 
I nodded, trying to keep him from going completely nuts. By this time, he was gesticulating with his arms, the razored box cutter dicing the air, and getting me a bit worried.

His eyes were glassy. He stared like a gaunt, bony street person who was a kook. The struggle was figuring out what type of kook.
 
Was he ADD? Was he on heroin himself (probably not because he would have been sedate instead of a crazy speed talker)? Was he schizophrenic?  Bipolar? Manic? On crystal meth? Perhaps he was a speed freak.
 
My coworker thought Doug drank too much coffee. All speeded up, talking non-stop, it made sense when you thought about it.
 
It’s weird coming across people like Doug. They exist. They might be a coworker of yours; they might run the business next door. Are they dangerous?  You don’t really know, but you speculate, and quite frankly, most of us avoid people like him.

As his rant continued, my coworker tried to get Doug back on track to talk about our products and services. Doug wasn’t having it. He was on a tear, his eyes bulging, staring through us as if we didn’t exist.
 
If we’d let him continue talking, I’m quite confident that three hours later we could have still been there, nodding our heads, as he spun his verbal wheels on every subject under the sun.
 
I’ve seen a LOT of street people in my day. Doug reminded me of that type of person. Yet there he was, working a legit business, with a lethal weapon in one hand and multiple crazy thoughts in his head.
 
We passively left the premises after slowly thanking him for his time. Doug abruptly stopped talking. He said some things about his office. We nodded our heads, then walked out.
 
 Before even reaching our car, we hashed out the situation. “Is he nuts?”
 
“Whoa, what a psycho!”
 
“He needs to be institutionalized!”
 
“What’s he on?”
 
There weren’t any answers. We won’t be going back there. I hope someone close by pays attention to him. He needs that help.