Mr. Please Let Me Eat My Meal in Silence.

On Friday evening, I was sitting in 405 traffic following a community service event and was starving. I took it upon myself to Yelp Happy Hour Sushi places in the area. I drove to the place in El Segundo, sat myself at the sushi bar, and ordered a Happy Hour beer and sashimi platter.

The nerdy guy to my left asked to change seats with me so he could plug in his laptop and I said of course, no problem. He insisted on buying me a happy hour beer for my trouble (all of $2.50 – way to go, Moneybags) to which I said that was not necessary.

My sushi arrived and I happily began eating. Nerdy guy kept asking me questions while I was mid-bite. Mind you, I was in sweats and literally covered in dirt and sweat from the service event. I tried my best to be polite; after all, I am unemployed and you never know when the next job opportunity may meet you. But after he told me for the 3rd time that he was the best tech publicist in Los Angeles and that was he launching a huge product next year and everyone would know his name, I lost my patience.

I stared at my phone, texting girlfriends that I was being hounded by Los Angeles’ most obnoxious self-professed tech publicist, and didn’t answer any of his questions. He still blabbered on, telling me his life story. Against my will, I learned that he also went to USC, then dropped out (to which I said, “That’s cool” and he retorted, “Were you even listening? Dropping out is not cool at all.”

One girlfriend texted back saying she would call me immediately and pretend to be my boyfriend but I had already begged the waiter for my check. As I paid my bill (at least the beer was comped), he slid over not 1 but 2 different business cards and told me to call if I ever needed a publicist. Who has 2 different business cards?

I bolted out of there only to sit in another 40 minutes of traffic and fumed at myself for not having the balls to tell the guy to leave me alone. More than anything, I had just wanted a relaxing beer and sushi in silence.

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