Some old crazy guy just said something to me on the bus after I cleared my throat. He's still muttering to himself. He appeared to be upset that I had cleared my throat. He's now pointing to his watch and raving, gently, about something to the guy sitting next to him, who is doing his best to humor him.
He's clearly ill and in need of help. It's always a little jarring to be confronted with insanity during your morning commute. But there are plenty of mentally ill people out there that manage to keep it together to some degree, hold jobs, etc. They obviously need to get around like everyone else, and it's probably better when they ride the bus -- rather than acting out at the wheel of a car.
The crazy guy got off the bus in Chinatown and walked off purposively across Hill Street, carrying a small package.