There's this guy sitting across from me, some kind of oriental/native looking sparse-bearded skinny who keeps taking his shoes off to sit cross legged and run his worry or meditation beads , nice shiny big black beads. HI-tech backpack. New fleece pullover, very long hair in a perfect braid. I hate guys like that. I keep wanting to tell him to cut it out, this is America, we don't do that shit here.
And now there's another fat chick whose racial profile I shall leave to your imagination, defiant, petulant, talking to herself workin up to a shoot, is my guess.
I said "Madam, Please refrain from talking constantly to yourself."
We'll see. a lot of times you gotta give a person in a bad mood some slack before they calm down.
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