"Do you eat out a lot?"

My neck is broken. Okay, not really broken, but I somehow pulled a muscle walking from my bedroom to the shower this morning and now it hurts like a bitch when I try to turn it. That and I woke up in the middle of a deep sleep, so forming coherent sentences seems difficult if not impossible. I've taken two extra strength acetimetophin, drank two cups of coffee, and ate half of an awful chocolate chip scone.

Not a good morning.

* * *

What is it about me? Do I look approachable? Do I not have that hardened New Yorker stare that fends off contact with weirdos? I had my headphones on as I went to cross Bleecker at Broadway when an older gentlemen dressed in a suit made the motion that he wanted to ask me something. He and his two companions had a hapless expression that only the lost get. Did he not see the headphones?? Okay, buddy. Since I'm nice, and you look lost, I'll answer whatever question you seem keen to ask me.

Older gentleman: "Do you know where Jesters is?"

Me: "Um, I've never heard of it. It's definitely not in this immediate area."

There's an air of finality in my response, but he seems incredulous.

Older gentleman: "You've never heard of Jesters?"

I didn't want to tell him that his restaurant sounded like a strip club located off a Florida exit ramp.

Me: "Well I'm quite sure it's not around here. Maybe down in Soho?"

Older Gentleman: "Do you eat out a lot?"

Me: "Um, yeah."

Warning. Warning. Awkwardly personal comment approaching.

Older Gentleman: "You look like you do," he said with a good natured chuckle as his eyes looked me up and down. "You look healthy."

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh. I said thank you and made a break for it.

A later searching of Google and Citysearch revealed that there was NO such restaurant in NYC named Jesters or even Gestures at that rate. Clearly this man was a lost member of the Crazy Tribe. I wonder if he ever found what he was looking for.