This happened about a year ago. I work at a pet store where we adopt out cats from local shelters. They aren't our cats; we are an intermediary to help them get seen and adopted. We follow the interview and application processes set by the various shelters in order to determine whether or not to adopt to a person. The application process often includes contacting the landlord to ensure that it is fine that the person has cats on their property.

One afternoon, a youngish man came in to the store, maybe in his mid to late twenties, and walked back to our adoption center. He was thin, maybe a little dirty looking, but there was nothing too remarkable about his appearance. When he reached the cats, without even looking at them, he turned to my manager and said, "I'll take that one and that one." He pointed at Fluffers and Delmonico, a cat and a kitten from two different shelters located in two different cages. Fluffers clearly had a sign on her cage saying she was approved for adoption, so my manager said, "Um, well, Fluffers is spoken for but we can have you visit with Delmonico."

She went into the little visitation room with the guy and I walked away, glad I had dodged the bullet of helping out that particular guy. He had just rubbed me the wrong way.

A few minutes later, my manager came to get me. She asked me to go talk to the guy to see what I thought because, in her words, he just seemed a little off. We take the responsibility of making sure our cats go to good homes very seriously, so I sighed and agreed.

When I went in the little visitation room, the guy was sitting on the bench with Delmonico clutched in his arms, just staring at the wall. The kitten was squirming a lot. He seemed okay, but he really didn't seem to want to be held by the guy. I introduced myself and asked if he was interested in maybe adopting Delmonico. The guy said yes, he would take him.

Me: "There is a two-page application to fill out before you can be approved, and if you rent, we'll need your landlord's number so we can make sure it's okay that you adopt a cat."

Him: "...."

Me: "Did you want to fill out the application?"

Him: "What application?"

He was still holding the kitten, who clearly wanted away from him, and he turned to look at me, and I saw his pupils were huge and black, his irises barely visible. I noticed that his leg was twitching, twitching, twitching like he could barely sit still. I felt my palms get sweaty and I explained the application process again, adding that it could take 24 - 72 hours to process everything. He focused on me and said, "I can't take him today?"

Me: (wanting the kitten out of his arms) "Well, let's get you to fill out the app and we'll see what we can do."

Him: (shouting out of nowhere) "Jesus fucking Christ!! Okay, give me the goddamn paper!!"

I wordlessly handed him a clipboard with the application on it. He let go of Delmonico, who I immediately scooped up. I could feel the guy's heat on the kitten's fur, which severely disturbed me for some reason. I clutched the kitten to my chest and waited for him to be done, since other than the one outburst, he had been mostly polite, and my retail training wouldn't yet allow me to ask him to leave.

Him: (stares at the application)

Me: (trying to hurry him up) " ...we just need you to fill it out and we can get the ball rolling."

Him: "I just, I just can't wrap my head around the fact you need this information. This is crazy."

Me: "It's what the shelter requires."

Him: (begins writing the word "fuck" in all the spaces on the application.)

Me: (palms sweating, kitten in my arms with his head agains my chest, trying to decide what to do)

Him: (suddenly looks at me) "This is bullshit! This system is bullshit! All the cats will die without getting adopted with this system!"

I had a pretty good rush of adrenaline going at this point, but my inherently polite retail persona still wouldn't let me ask him to leave. So instead I told him that we typically find homes for about a dozen homeless cats each week using the applications.

He stared at me and put his hands on the sides of his head. He rocked back and forth for a moment and then met my eyes and said, very very clearly, "You have a mind like a Babylonian orgasm! I'm leaving!"

For a second, I felt like maybe I was the crazy one, like maybe that sentence made sense and I was simply unable to understand it. As I ran it through my head, trying to figure out what he meant, he got up, slammed the door to the visitation room open, and stomped out of the store.

Delmonico was unharmed and as I put him back in his kennel, my manager approached me, her eyes wide. I showed the the application on which the word "fuck" appeared numerous times and told her, "I don't think we should adopt to him."

So, crazy tweaked-out cat lover guy, let's never meet again.