Mr. White Successfully Orders a Fish Sandwich.

I sat in a small 2-person booth against a window. I did not want to attract attention to myself but one would think I could not avoid it. I am hungry and there is a sign in the window advertising a fish sandwich. The darkness outside acts as a weird-sort of silvering material and I can see myself reflected in the window as if it is a poor quality mirror. I was there but I had no clean-cut edges. My white face seemed almost over-exposed in the restaurant lighting but it was impossible to miss my jaunty black fedora. I had placed it @ an angle over my left ear and th e brim pointed rakishly down over my left eye. Next time, I'm adding a black bowtie to the ensemble. Accessorizing can be everything: Put a big, chunky ring on every finger or a white polka-dot bowtie under the chin or a thick gold rope around the neck and the eye is drawn to the distraction. How long was I going to have to wait for someone to take my order? I may not be your typical diner customer but this was a place frequented in the late night hours by, often, extremely drunk people. The staff has seen it all because I have seen it all as I have people-watched on the periphery of it. My personal tip meter was ticking downward. Why would no one come to take my order? I checked my appearance in my blurry mirror again to make sure everything was in place. That's when I saw a bigger blurred reflection further down in the window. The old-lady ghost dressed as the pope was back and she seemed to be hovering above the floor. Was she waving to me to come over to her? No more of the mushrooms growing in the kid's closet no matter how good the trip is.