Planet Zircon.

The title begs a story.

After one of my Nazi CBT fun filled adventure Friday trips (explanations will come at a later date), on a whim, I decided to treat myself to lunch in the city. Ah the fresh food indoor market with all its smells and lovely little boutique cafés, a girl's dream really. Fresh veggies, sandwich, café au lait avec pâtisserie, yes please!

It being Friday, noon on the dot, I take my tray ("you'll need a tray") and carry it to the only available table left, a table for four. I look 'round searching, not wanting to "waste" a table where other people could sit, but I have no choice, so I sit.

Ah, now this is the life. I got my giant newspaper, my lunch and a smile. Unfortunately, from the corner of my eye I see a poor woman with her tray ("and this one is wet") in the same predicament I was in but a moment earlier. No room, and none of the city busy folk letting her in on theirs, so I offered her a seat. Yes it's fine, go ahead, no problem, you're welcome.

She was so grateful. Good, I did a good dead, and I felt pleased as well. Alas, she was so grateful she sat right in front of me. Um? You know, there are 3 free chairs, but whatever the reason, she chose the one directly across from me.

Back story about French cafés, they are prone to small, itty, bitty tables, spaced together so tightly that only an elf or air can pass between. Johnny Depp says this set up would never fly in the US. I like the US, they give you room. Because we all know how much I hate people.

So being raised right and having, now, apparently, a wee friend directly in front of me, I take my paper off the table because wouldn't it be rude to make a shield with it? She'd have to put her plate on my paper, and that will not do, no more paper. After some chewing, and me not really knowing where to look, because, where do you look when a perfect stranger is in front of you, mere inches away? A smattering of chit chat starts. Yes, nice day. Oh you work in the natural food store, how nice. Yeah, I do come here some...

Okay, I can handle this. Cool. Phew, not such a bad scenario afterall. Chew. Chew. Yep, weather.

And then, I see her hand move forward. Am I seeing that right? Her fork in hand, she reaches across the table very slowly. I instantly stop chewing. I cannot breathe. Her hand is still coming towards me. Is she really going to do what I think she is about to do?

Holy Mother of All Things Holy  is she going into my plate for MY FOOD??

Actually no. On her way, she TAPS (TAP! TAP! TAP!) my diamond ring WITH HER FORK and asks:


No you fruitcake freak!

I lost my appetite and haven't left the house since, having been soiled with a fork and all.

Carry on.


Wendy said…
I think she's lucky that you didn't return her fork, directly in the middle of her forehead.
stivafan said…

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