Not so much because of the food itself but because as I tried to enjoy my lunch in St. Marks' Church park with a book, I was engaged in two conversations.
One was with a nice street-punk squatter type:
"That looks like a nice salad."
"Yeah, tofu and all that. Carrots are hard on my teeth, though. You gotta be careful. They're better boiled but you lose all the vitamins that way."
"Well, have a nice book!"
That was nice of him. That I can deal with. But then, another dude comes up to me who is obviously out of his mind on something but not a crusty street punk. I can't even transcribe the conversation because he was rambling about everything and nothing and kept asking to see the book when I was making an obvious point to be very engrossed in its pages. Some highlights, however:
"You ever heard the phrase alla eloquentia?" "No." "It means everything is eloquent." "Oh."
"You ever wonder about death and dying?" "No."
"I thought that pigeon was eating a rock. Why would it do that?" "I don't know."
"You know the phrase [fkjhfaifhhdu]?" This question I just ignored completely, but gave him a flat out "No" without looking at him to his final, "Care to grab a drink?"
Then he got up and left.
Anyway, the salad wasn't very good. It needed more flavor but at least I didn't spend any money on food yesterday.
Spinach, tofu, zucchini, carrot, sprouts with red wine vinegar, black pepper, and a little nooch, on top of Michael Chabon'sYiddish Policemen's Union. Uhhhh read any good books lately? Harassed by any weirdos?