Everybody loves Raymond, unless he's a freakin' whackjob

So, because I worked a short stint in the tech support department over the weekend, I was able to take today off to go furniture shopping with my wife while Holden stayed with his grandma. We spent a buttload of money and got an even bigger buttload of furniture. After we'd unloaded it, we decided to grab some lunch before rearranging a good portion of our apartment. We headed down to Stadim Tavern, a local watering hole we frequented before the baby.

It's Joana, our friend Chris and myself at a small table on the patio. We're quietly enjoying an afternoon libation when we see one of the three guys at the next table walk back to his seat carrying several grocery bags full of stuff. We joke quietly to ourselves, and continue with our conversation.

A few minutes later, the same dude returns (we hadn't noticed he'd left) carrying even more crap, and this time it was baseball memorabilia (old penants, programs and whatnot). Again, we comment to ourselves, since this guy has not accumulated no less than the volume of our weekly grocery shopping around his feet. Then, the fun began.

He leans over and asks if we're smoking clove cigarettes (which Chris was), and proceeds to tell us how much he likes them and that they're his favorite, etc. We respond with something like "cool", and he starts talking about how he's just purchased a $200 membership to the "exclusive" cigar and martini bar across the street (this place is located in the back room of a tobacco shop - members only). Again, we validate him a little and then he starts commenting on my tattoos, how much he likes them, etc. He asks how many I have, and I said 29 (which may not be exactly right, but's pretty damn close), to which he responds that he's pretty sure his second tattoo took longer than all of my tattoos combined (by the way, he's now standing up between our table and his, talking way too loudly for the surroundings). He proceeds to turn around and lift his shirt to reveal some sort of indian-type bird tattoo that covered about 2/3 of his back. "Nice work", I said, though it was really not all that great in terms of tattoos. He starts spouting off about how it took 5 seperate sessions for a total of 29 hours to do the whole thing. I pretended to be impressed, since that's obviously what he was looking for and then he comes out with this (with a very serious look on his face):

"Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

Obviously, this is a quote from the original Batman film from the early 90's, so I quote the next two lines right along with him, and chuckle slightly. He's still looking at me like I just said his momma was ugly, so I just turned back to my companions. Then, he starts quoting Young Guns, then some other movie I didn't recognize. In response to our blank stares, he returns to his seat. Everybody at my table is now looking at each other like "what in the hell is up with this jackass?". Not two seconds later, reaches over and hands something to Joana that looked like a candy bar. He said it was some sort of breath mint. We thanked him in the way you'd thank a homeless guy who just gave you his pants, and he turned around again. This time, he's handing us a canister of some sort of orange biscuits. Before you know it, we're the proud owners of (in addition to the stuff I've alread mentioned) a bag of chocolate oatmeal cookies (or the limey equivalent), a pair of small Mini Cooper models, a black Bic lighter, a roll of what look like Life Savers and a candy bar.

The stands back up and starts introducing himself.

"Raymond" he said, with his hand in my face.

"Brett", I replied, giving his hand a quick shake. He did the same thing to Chris, then to Joana whom he asked (while still shaking her hand) if she attended Cal State Fullerton, which she had and said so. He said that he'd seen her there, and then started verbally vomitting about how he'd gone to UC Santa Barbara for 6 years, but worked for some drug dealer cleaning his pool or some nonsense like that.

Then he asks Joana "Do you have a Cal State sweatshirt?", and she replies that she doesn't. So he grabs what ends up being some sort of warmup, sweatsuit style jacket emblazened with the school's name and hands it to her. Joana was visibly reserved, because who knows what this nutbar did to/with the jacket before handing it over to a total stranger.

"Thanks", she said quietly.

All this happened in the span of about 6 minutes. Before we knew it, our new friend Raymond was headed across the street to enjoy some cocktails at the tobacco shop. A few minutes after he'd left, a guy walks up to our table and hands Joana his cell phone (which is actually connected) and says "tell my wife about all the crap that guy gave you". So, while Joana lists off everything ol' Raymond had given us, the guy asked where Raymond had gone. We told him he'd already gone across the street and he starts laughing. We ask how he knows Raymond and he says "I don't, he just asked if he could sit down - before you know it he's giving me all this crap and inviting my friend and I to Red Cloud!".

Chris and I just about lost it at that point.

For a second, I kinda felt bad that this guy was walking up to total strangers and inviting them to pretty uppity cigar clubs just for the company (well, I can only assume that was the reason), but he seemed to be having a freakin' blast so more power to him.