Lunch With A Stranger

“Go to the park!” they said.

“Have a nice, relaxing lunch!” they said.

“Get a little fresh air!” they said.

Ever have the feeling that you’re being watched?

Yes, there was PBJ involved (and I’m not talking about the bomber!). This destroyed all pretenses toward maintaining a separation between nature and my lunch.

Has this little bastard had his shots? Don’t they carry plague?

A bit of apple bought me the time to make a run for the car, escaping the little rodent terrorist to live and lunch another day.