In the discussion forum for Achewood, Teezee wrote
One time back in life I ran into a particularly crazy bus person. At the stop he flailed at cars, yelled at the top of his lungs (perhaps to whatever arcane god this appeals to?) and otherwise wailed nonstop about some female he cared about who was definitely not a whore. After much hullabaloo I was given reprieve from this bizarre mixture of compassion and trepidation he was making me feel when he did not get on the bus.
Three stops later, the man got on. I spent the next 15 minutes immune to his waxing and waning raving and clear upset because I was completely confounded as to how he beat the bus to three stops down a street to get on. At the time I could only conclude that my business with him was not yet done. Out of the blue I thought that what he needed was comfort instead of everyone pretending fiercely as if he did not exist. It is completely out of character for me to hug anything, but I felt compelled to hug this clearly deranged and dangerous individual and to wish him a nice day.
Because it was such a strange concept for me I spent the next 10 minutes in internal debate as to why this idea would even occur to me. I stood up as my stop was nigh and I continued the internal debate. As my stop came up I suddenly became aware that he was right in front of me, within elbowing range. I suppose this is a mark of how caught up in my obsessions and oblivious to my surroundings I can become. Anyway, the crazy man does the craziest thing imaginable:
He hugs me. He tells me to have a nice day. He goes and sits down and I exit the bus.