Adventures in eating Part I

I'm sitting at my little table in this little place where the music is not too loud and I can sneak in a little red leaf salad to go with their too-small sandwiches. The manager's a friend, but I am discreet anyway. Anyway, the woman on my left is talking very loudly to someone on her cell and furiously writing notes. I mean furiously, she looked like she was chewing on something made from fuel oil and soap chips, and meanwhile she was writing, writing, writing everything that the unheard voice was saying. And she was asking some interesting questions : Was she known by any other name? A street name. A gang Name?? Write, write, write... she spent how long in that facility...write write write write... Do you think she still carries a gun or guns??? write write write...

I try to read the piece on evolution and ignore the write write writing, meanwhile the woman on my right is having a vicious argument with someone. She is making biting remarks regarding the conduct of who ever she is talking about to whomever she is talking. It takes me awhile to realize that she is not talking to someone on a cellphone, she is nuts.

The first lady and I, who I have decided is a PI, exchange glances and my friend AJ whose physical therapy has gotten him some steadier legs leans over my table as he passes. "It's nice to have lunch in the nexus of three psychiatric hospitals, makes you feel normal no matter how whacked out you are."