Once, many years ago, I found myself in a fast-food restaurant in a very small town and the line was very long. After waiting for what seemed like hours, I looked behind me and saw a guy dressed like Hendrix with at least 20 very out of date cameras hanging around his neck. Then I saw an old lady with over a dozen baby dolls she was pushing in a baby carriage and talking to. That's when I noticed the vans and handlers from a local mental institute. It was inmates day out. Could this be the sort of uneasy call for help feelings the unsuspecting families who encounter Mr. Woo and all the other insufferable assholes who invade children's parks and act like they own the place must deal with.