I am trying to do some editing at my beloved Caribou Cafe.
Sadly, though, I am thwarted.
A man came up to me a bit ago and asked to share my table, since there are not so many outlets for laptops. I happen to know that there are two tables towards the back with outlets, but whatever.
I don’t like having anyone in my personal space when I am writing or editing, but I could probably muddle through if not for the fact that he keeps talking to me.
I realize he’s trying to compensate for the awkwardness of invading my table and demonstrate that he’s “really a nice guy” and all, but Jeez… just let me write, dude. I’m really not that interested in hearing about your two jobs and your MBA program.
I R Evil.