Well, it appears you are right on schedule with your crazy pills today. It took you a solid ten minutes to drag your little metal cart to the exact spot you wanted next to your tiny table in this tiny Soho restaurant like a dog circling before laying down. I'm impressed you waited five minutes before raising your freak flag though. The wait must have been tough. I must say, when you brought out the sequined mannequin head because you "don't like to eat alone", it was the most entertaining part of my day. I appreciate that you topped of the crazy by wearing a white spaghetti strap tank top with no bra because you wanted to air out your uber hairy NBA player armpits and feel the breeze on your furry arm mole. My hawk eyed vision paired with my sensitive gag reflex made choking down my lunch a bit tough as I saw your silver hamster armpits rustle in the spring air. Thankfully the breeze was not strong enough to carry the scent of your undoubtedly au naturale armpits. I'm sure your eccentricity brightened the days of all of the busy strangers you stopped on the street as they passed your table and wearily listened to you explaining how you hate to eat alone and so your bring your Vegas-show-girl tranny head out to eat lunch with you. Thank you for eavesdropping too and listening in to our conversations with your injections and opinions. Shh...do you hear that? Do you recognize that tone? It's sarcasm, the same tone you heard when you told us all about your creepy dolls and we said, "That's nice".
Pack up your crazy and bother some other diner please,
~Let me eat my Indian food in peace please
P.S. When you went to the bathroom the entire restaurant, especially your waiter, enjoyed watching our little photo session with your creepy inanimate companion.
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