I'm at Starbucks and there's this bastard sitting right opposite, facing me, and I think my seating choice has never been more unfortunate. Yes, this beats having a mad old man beside me in the bus screaming 'cheebye' in sporadic bursts.

This fellow (dressed in a seriously screwed up yellow & brown printed shirt and not-so-cute nerdy specs) is a metre or less away from me, and busy acting busy reading the papers but I just KNOW he wants to be an ass to me. This is how I know; his main engagement at the moment is blowing at me. Really, blowing as in 'hoooooooooo hoooooooooooooooooooooooo' blowing. I CAN FEEL HIS BREATH ON MY FACE. He blows couple of times every 3 minutes and it's now been about 8 minutes and I think it's a miracle that my macchiato is not all over his dumb, blowing head. Yet.

Ah. I just gave him this expressionless stare for like...5 seconds. And now he's real casually blowing at some other direction. Thank god it worked. Wld have hated to actually have to talk to him, to say something like, "Stop blowing at me". That wld have been so weird.

Maybe I shld get some cake.