How Not to Engage the Mentally Ill.

We begin with some basic word or phrase association. If I asked you to describe something like an Air Force base to me what would come to mind? Now if I asked you to describe a one bedroom apartment to me what would come to mind. Specifically, contrast the size (or acreage) of your typical military base and 400 square foot apartment. With all this in mind, we begin.

A charming lady calls for assistance as there is an American Air Force base in her living room, and it is frightening her cat. Arriving at the location I was unable to find any base, airplanes, or personnel in her living room (which wasn't surprising) nor was I able to locate her cat (which was surprising). While I'm not one to mock or make light of mental illness, there truly isn't anything I can do except try to convince her that there is no such base and the only noises were coming from her television (which she assured me was turned up to drown out the noise of the base). Understandably, she takes offense to my remarks and lectures me about advances in stealth technology which allows the Air Force to undertake such tasks as installing bases in random people's apartments.

With no resolution in sight we suggest that perhaps we can escort our client to a hospital for mental evaluation. She replies by demanding a supervisor. Our supervisor arrives shortly, and having performed at this job for a great deal longer than myself, goes the opposite route and buys wholly into the madness, so to speak. He is able to, in short order, convince our client that he is a high ranking officer and has such power that he will have the entire base dismantled, equipment moved, and personnel reassigned forthwith. He laments, however, that despite his lofty connections and ranking the sheer logistics of moving hundred of people and thousands of tons of equipment and infrastructure will take several days. Three, specifically.

At this news our client, who has reliably called about this problem twice a day for the past week, jumps up and down and even hugs the supervisor. She has not called since. I have been told since this time that this was a dangerous or stupid thing to do, as mental illness isn't a game to the sufferer. I am reminded of one of Murphy's Laws of Combat. "If it's stupid but it works, it's not stupid."