I first learned this in my youth, when I was waiting tables at a neighborhood bar. I would walk in on a bright night only to be greeting knowingly by the barmaid with a cheery, "Full moon tonight!" At first I shrugged, but soon I realized that she was issuing a warning. On full moon night it seemed like every crazy in Detroit would eventually wander through the bar-room door. Once a very quiet and sober looking patron left a note for me swearing that he had been worshipping me from afar but was going out of my life that night because he had lived under so many identities that he feared he would taint me with his checkered past. He must have been all of 25 at the time, and I could only deduce that these were full moon identities.
Other times this normally peaceful little gathering place would erupt into brawls that would put some of those in old western movies to shame. On other full moon nights things were tamer but still weird. Normally courtly customers would pinch me in unmentionable places right in front of their wives. One full moon regular was an 80 year old lady who would come in, order a beer and beep like the Road Runner whenever she wanted a refill.
We never saw these people when the moon was waxing or waning - only at it's glorious fullness.
My father was a funeral director and swore that he got more calls on full moon nights than at any other time. Unfortunately, he didn't keep records. Unfortunately, very few people keep records of this sort of thing. Perhaps it seems too self-evident to document.
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