The other day I was reflecting on the strange fascination I had with midgets when I was in college. It had something to do with living in a roomful of girls who were easily excited by anything, and tended to blow everything out of proportion. We decided one day that we loved midgets, and from that moment on, it developed into a full-blown obsession.
Sitting on my bed the other night, I got to remembering this. How funny, I thought. What a strange obsession.
The next day at breakfast, Danny looked up from his fruit and muesli, and in his characteristically random fashion, said, “Have any of you all ever been obsessed with midgets?” It was very strange.
It turns out that Danny is ravenously obsessed with midgets. The only thing that rivals his midget obsession is his obsession with lesbians. He talks about midgets and lesbians all the time.
Last night, as we were all walking home, the conversation was on meditation. Danny broke in suddenly and said, dead serious, “You know, I really love it when I see a midget. It makes me so happy. Looking at midgets is kind of like a meditation for me.”