Damn. There was some kid sitting next to me for a while here, talking and talking and talking...

I mean, he didn't seem particularely socially bright. A perfect nerd type, if I do say so myself.

Not that I have anything against nerds. I certainly hope I don't, since I've been thrown in that classification now and then too.

First it started off with a:

"Wow. You can type fast."

"Hm? Oh, thank you."

I suppose I type fast. I should, by now. I use the computer enough.

"Wow. And without looking at the keys, too."

"Well, I use the computer a lot."

"Do you like comics?" I'd been checking up on my various favorite online comics (www.reallifecomics.com, www.clanofthecats.com, www.fat-jesus.com, and threw in a couple extras which I don't check too often, just for effect)

"Yes. There's a few which I read daily."

"What's your favorite?"

By this time I'm just trying to reply to email, and don't want his face stuck to my monitor any more.

"Real Life Comics."

"Which one's that."

"The first one I checked."

"Huh?"

"This one."

"Oh."

A few moments pass and I finish checking my regular pages (www.brunching.com, www.thespark.com, www.theonion.com, and so on and so forth...)

"Is that a top hat?" I'm wearing my lovely black detective hat.

"No, it's a Fedora."

"A what?"

"A fedora. It's a kind of hat."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"What kind of jacket is that?" And I'm a bit confused at this point. I mean, it's a /jacket/. It's nothing else. It's one of those black velvet business jackets, straight out of the seveties.

"Uh. A suit jacket." It's about the only description I can give.

"Cool, can I touch it?"

"I suppose so."

He pokes my jacket a couple times, and I inform him:

"It's velvet."

"Oo."

And then he left.

Peculier, eh? I've never seen this particular kid before. Perchance I'll never see him again, but it was a neat little (if vaguely irritating) happening. ;)

Anyway, I run. My stomach isn't too happy and the lower right portion of my rib cage has gone numb again.

Ta-ta.

.

Rosie.

Before&After