Sideshow Bob was an impostor. His fro was bogus! The man was wearing a cheap (but very big)...wig!
The Dunkin' Donuts diners tittered. Sideshow Bob at first seemed to be unaware that he had lost his retro plumage and stood there lusting after my Number Four. Slowly, ever so slowly, he did what few of us could do in such an awkward situation: he nonchalantly and with equal aplomb, stepped back, picked it up and put it back on without missing a beat before going on his way.
The young guy with the impossibly tall Junoesque model most dweebs can only hope to see in the latest Ocean Drive remarked to everyone that he has to remind himself to stop taking the window seats. I told him as I admiringly watched Sideshow Bob (instead of the model which, unfortunately, says a lot about me) walk south toward Starbucks that hey, those are the best seats in this house called life: up close and personal with only a thin sheet of glass and air-conditioning to separate and to insulate you from the cartoon characters in the absurdest play known as SoBe. And then, once it appears safe or dangerous, depending on what rocks your boat, you can either go out and play with them or remain safely ensconced with your cup of coffee with cream and sugar and your truly amazing Number Four.