P.T.S.D.

I got a call at a local Yoga gym. That's right, a call at a Yoga gym involving some sort of disturbance. I'm not making this up! Evidently, the owner of the facility didn't want one of the students to come back after an altercation. I arrive and meet the owner at the door. While I'm speaking to him I can't help but notice a woman hurriedly walking toward us. She's wearing the most god-awful outfit a human could put together. She has some sort of flimsy summer hat pulled down over her head almost to the eyebrow, sitting just above a pair of gigantic sunglasses that would have made Corey Hart jealous.

"Officer, I need to speak with you."

"I'll hear your side in a moment, mam."

"No, I need to talk first."

"Mam, I'll be with you in a minute." We shut the door so the business owner can explain what happened.

She opens the door and sticks her head in. "I want to hear what you guys are saying about me, officer. I have a constitutional right to hear."

"No, you don't," I tell her. "He doesn't want you on his property. So you have to wait out there."
She smacks her lips loudly and shuts the door.

The owner tells me he teaches the Yoga classes himself. He says he doesn't actually do the poses, but walks around aiding the students with technique. He says the crazy hat woman joined the class several months before and, for no good reason, wore gigantic hats to the class. They practice Yoga in a 105 degree sauna. Wearing a restrictive hat would trap heat in her body and endanger her. He asked her to stop wearing the hat. She protested, but eventually agreed to stop wearing it. Then, upon being approached by complaining students, he had to speak to her again. She must smoke like a chimney and, when exercising in a 105 degree sauna, the smell of cigarettes becomes overwhelming. So he asked her to not smoke before coming.

Everything went well for one month. But then a day before this altercation she showed up for class wearing a Sombrero and smelling like a Marlboro. He asked her to leave and she threw a tantrum, cursing him out in front of the class and threatening to sue.

At this point I spoke with her. I couldn't even get a word out before she started unwrapping.

"I have P.T.S.D. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'm a rape victim!"

"What does that have to do with today?" I ask.

"He bullied and intimidated me. I want him arrested. And I want him to refund all my money immediately."

"The money is a civil matter, mam. But he is a business owner and doesn't want you on his property anymore. So I have to trespass you."

"But I'm a victim. I'm a rape victim. I have P.T.S.D. He should have to go to a class on P.T.S.D."

"No, he shouldn't," I say. "You should just stay away from the Yoga studio. Maybe buy some DVD's or pick it up on cable. But no more coming here. Got it?"

"I understand. I'm going to sue him for violating my civil rights. And I'm going to sue the police department for aiding in the intimidation and disrespect of a private citizen who has P.T.S.D."

Then she shimmied down the sidewalk with a hand on her ridiculous hat. Several patrons of a nearby eating establishment were watching and shaking their heads from side to side as if to say, "We're sorry you have to deal with that."