Last night at work, in addition to my usual proofreading duties, I was asked to proof a set of mugshots for the Harris County Sheriff's Department/Crime Stoppers. I spent a good hour double-checking one set of mugshots and basic data of fugitives- 56 of them- against the info provided by the Sheriff's Department. Fifty-six people, wanted for everything from aggrevated assault to forgery to capital murder to indecency with a child to felony theft.

The Greensheet occasionally prints outside jobs, and this was one of them. It was the first time I'd seen the most-wanted list in our queue, so I was surprised, but it was a good change from looking at ads all night. It was weird, though, looking at all those faces and trying to imagine them committing the crimes they were wanted for. Some of the fugitives were younger than me, some looked perfectly normal, and some seemed like total incongruities, like the old Chinese guy wanted for assault with a deadly weapon. I started putting together stories about these people in my head, and I think that when I have the time I'm going to actually do something with them.

I also realized last night that I talk to an inordinate number of schizophrenics during the week. Since the Greensheet offices are downtown, and a mere block from the bus station, all manners of homeless and/or unemployed folks wander the streets, many of whom hit me up for cigarettes or change when I'm on a break outside. A significant percentage of them seem to suffer from one mental disorder or another, and I often wonder how their brain chemistry differs from mine. Since I'll probably never find out, I just talk to 'em and try to treat them like anyone else; this can be tough, though, when you think the guy you're talking to is gonna drop his pants and show you the hernia lurking near his genitals.