Wierdo

The other night I went to Steak 'n Shake by myself. Erin was off at a conference, Grant was with Grandma, and I was hungry and incapable of feeding myself with goods found in our house, so I went to Steak 'n Shake.

Upon arriving, I noticed a man seated at the rear of the store. He had long, stringy hair, camouflage pants, a camouflage jacket, and what appeared to be brand spankin' new tennis shoes, as bright as the day is long. (Why is it that these types always have one article of clothing that appears to have received all of the care and attention of which the rest of their being has been deprived?)

He also had yellowish-brown tinted glasses, but they weren't just any glasses. They were one step short of being protective glasses like those worn by people practicing firing a handgun. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning. He was staring. Dead ahead. He also had a pair of over-the-ear style headphones, attached to what appeared to be an iPod in his shirt pocket.

As I stood at the entrance, my initial thought was "Geez...So that's where I was headed if Erin hadn't arrived on the scene."

The hostess greeted me and then started back toward this guy's section. Sure enough. She seated me in front of him, and just off to the side. The man wasn't seated "properly" in his booth, instead choosing to sit sideways with his legs sticking out in the aisle. I took my seat with my back to him, but I could still just make him out from the corner of my eye.

Beyond the fact that I'd have to spend my whole dinner wondering if this guy was planning to lop off my head on the way out of the restaurant, I was also disturbed that my addition to his section had created, quite obviously, the "crazy single guys" section of the Steak 'n Shake.

Families would enter. I'd see parents' eyes meet with mine or his. I'd see them look at their children. There would be a brief conversation with the hostess. Then they'd head for their seats on the far side of the restaurant. I had inadvertently been sucked into "the dude's" vortex.

While trying to avert my gaze, I noticed him stand up and approach the waitress' station a few times, sticking his coffee mug out in front of him. He hadn't ordered any food. Only coffee. Gotta stay edgy. He would then ask the waitress to refill his cup, and he did it in the very-familiar-to-me "I forget I'm wearing headphones" voice -- a few decibles above crazy. At one point, one of the waitresses filled his mug, he looked into it, and stuck it back out asking for it to be "completely" filled.

He eventually stood up and walked straight out the front door of the restaurant, leaving nothing but his smell at the table. I thought, "Hmm...Nobody's chasing him to pay his bill. I can't say as I blame them." After about 5 minutes, he returned and took his seat.

All I can figure is that he had to go make sure the bodies weren't thawing.