Ball and Chain

My friend Nicole, knowing my love for ridiculous news articles, sent me a link that I couldn't just keep to myself. Apparently, in Columbus, Ohio recently-- a man suspected of robbery returned to the crime scene to ask the victim on a date.

Yes, you read that right.

The robbers fled when neighbors threatened them, but less than two hours later, police said one of the suspects returned to the victim's home to ask her out on a date.

The woman obviously recognized him and called the police. He was arrested and charged with aggravated robbery. He was held on $100,000 bond in the Franklin County Jail; my gut is telling me that Ms. Martinez did not bail him out and take him to dinner.

Though this article is laughable, it does support my notion that love makes people crazy. I'm sure the now black-and-white-striped Mr. Bennett was a few fries short of a Happy Meal to begin with, but even fairly normal individuals fall off their rocker when infatuation comes into the picture.

I once pretended to be a college football team's number one fan to get the attention of some guy; I would watch the highlights, memorize the big plays and recount them to get some high-five, chest bumping action from the supposed "boy of my dreams." I borrowed T-shirts, wore the jacket. It's like my sanity was momentarily lost because I knew it had to be done. Another crush sent me buying energy drinks I didn't even like because his company sold them. I sipped them occasionally so I could update him on my steady increase in energy, thinking this new energy would fuel something greater than a horrible taste. No such luck. I'm sure Bennett's determination kicked in when he locked eyes with his lady mid purse-snatching.

Even my dad talks about how he figured out my mom's schedule and would "casually" bump into her on Harding's campus. I once walked all the way across campus with a guy just to talk to him even though I had a class on the other side. He asked if I had anywhere to be, and I said, "No." When he rounded a corner, I took off in a sprint to class, my backpack beating against my back.

We spend countless hours staring at our phones, waiting for that one text message. We spend more hours thinking of what to respond with if said-person actually sends one. Our well thought out plan is usually annihilated when we run into the person and a stuttering mess of nonsense escapes from our mouths. Then, we go home and stare at our phone again, wondering if all is lost because of our previous blunder.

We eat food we don't like. We go to our least favorite restaurants. Guys watch "When Harry Met Sally" and hand the girl tissues. We over-analyze everything. We meet someone and then look at them on Facebook (don't act like you haven't done this). Guys make burned CDs of songs they've never heard but looked up on iTunes. Girls make posters and go the big game, googling "off sides" on their cellphone.

I say all this to say; judge Mr. Bennett all you want, but we're all nuts. He may have an actual ball and chain tied to his feet now, but we all have metaphorical ones. We will, until the end of time, be carrying around the ball and chain of love madness.

Let's just try not to commit felonies along the way.