An airport lounge: You're waiting for your boarding call. In the meantime, you find a seat and read your copy of The Financial Times...ok ok...comics section HT. And you sense more than see it. They're looking over your shoulder, reading what you are. You turn the page thinking they'll get the hint. After all they are available on the rack just ten feet away...and free too. But they keep looking...keep reading...
A phone-booth: You're in it, the door doesn't close completely, but that's ok.You're not discussing state secrets, just going about your business. This other person, looks like they intend to use the next booth, having nothing to do with you. But then, they pause outside the booth, pretending to be looking intently into that shop-window across the street, while their ears strain to catch your conversation. You find that every time you step into a phone booth, they are there. The shop windows across the street can't all be that interesting.
A hotel room: No, not a porn scene. Just your temporary station in some random city. You leave every day to go about your business, thankful for the small mercies called room service. Every evening you return, and you notice that you're stuff's not quite the same way it was when you left. You check, nothing's missing. Next day, same thing, everything's been disturbed, rifled through. So, its not your pseudo-expensive gadget collection they're after. Then what is it?!
yes...some people are just that annoying...
A phone-booth: You're in it, the door doesn't close completely, but that's ok.You're not discussing state secrets, just going about your business. This other person, looks like they intend to use the next booth, having nothing to do with you. But then, they pause outside the booth, pretending to be looking intently into that shop-window across the street, while their ears strain to catch your conversation. You find that every time you step into a phone booth, they are there. The shop windows across the street can't all be that interesting.
A hotel room: No, not a porn scene. Just your temporary station in some random city. You leave every day to go about your business, thankful for the small mercies called room service. Every evening you return, and you notice that you're stuff's not quite the same way it was when you left. You check, nothing's missing. Next day, same thing, everything's been disturbed, rifled through. So, its not your pseudo-expensive gadget collection they're after. Then what is it?!
yes...some people are just that annoying...