Whatever he was fiddling with I could'nt tell. His back turned to me, he seemed to be dismantling something on the table..
"Do be careful, I have'nt much time."
Glancing uselessly in a tip-toed voyeurism, I felt torn between an urgent readiness to explore the self proclaimed mystery vision salesman's latest and most "technically fortuitous" items and asking him to leave. Perhaps this "shmorgesborg of glue-thickened rarities" was simply impeding my more essential designs on the day. There was always a bigger fish to fry, though the markets had been turned to spice bunkers by immigrants with exaggerated smiles, and the fish had probably gone south to find more needy populaces (if I were a factory born fish, I would concentrate on a hearty diet so that my scales would be their shiniest for my fashionable display on the ice racks of the market- it is such a fish's destiny to look it's finest for the purposes of edible persuasion after all.)
I should be asking this lanky gentleman to be on his way, I really did need to work on my people skills. In front of the mirror tonight maybe, with the "restaurant ambience" tape I ordered playing softly in the back ground.
All the incessantly repugnant snarls I got from the finer beasts I approached lent me to prophesizing the self-directed golden age of my hormonal prowess. As always, from out the isolated greyness of solitude comes a casual blue, an ignorantly beautiful blue...the color of a boy-king so beautiful that he ordered all the mirrors in his lands destroyed for attempting to mimic his his precious milkiness.
Yes, that was it then. I would count backwards from 10, and kindly ask this fidgiting mongor of "whatever serpeants seek out when the find out their mother lied to them about about their being the runt so she would'nt have to hunt for as many little serpeant mouths, the cunt!" (as he put it) to engage a more willing victim into his display.

A clank here, an ambiguous mud juggling noise there, the sound of interlocking metal teeth, rotary wheels turning madly upon moldy panels of citrus circuits, hoops afire barely missing each other and crashing into volumes of neglected encyclopedium...what a royal ruckus!

What was he doing?

I would judge from the cacophony that he was constructing a complex topographical shoebox diohrama of a bitter urban buddha's alley way audience engaged in a confused rampage resulting from their guru's absence from his usual nightly reflections on the zen-like non-existence of his rent check and the metaphorical amorphousness of cruel capitolistic fumes (he might have chanted on how the corporate offices of mind monopolizers RULECORP™ recently installed a vapour waste tube pumping system that terminated in a skin-peeling diagonal jet stream across mainstreet from outside the 1st floor of their 700 foot tall monetary monolith...the poor street folk being bathed in the curdled xerox filth of binary wedding invitations as the malevolent moguls responsible flirted with easily transplantable secretaries behind several layers of thick iron doors installed with intricate security check procedures. For example, to gain clearance to the highest and most devastatingly beaurocratic synthesized paradise environents in RULECORP™, employees would have to recite scripture from nasdaq tablatures in 7 tongues and coerce underpaid blue collar plastic decoys out of strike....simaltaneously

Well, if it wasn't a gear controlled model of the evolution of fruit, it had better be something along the lines of a secret phrase with aphrodesiac-like implications.
"Come on now, if the do it yourself aspect of your product has to be done by someone else, I can assure you I'm not interested.....and besides, I do have more pressing matters to attend to."
"Now you jus eat a megabyte hoagie Mr. gogglelust. I'll be done fixing your fixations and rebuilding your unbuildables in two fleck's of a magnetic candle."
What a truly vexing mode of thought this enigmatic character adopted.
"I'll not have you ordering me what to eat in my own flat you.....you.....you face haver! Leave this instant! I've been more than patient with you, patient and anxiously getting nervous over my over-patience with you....I'm so so patient that im rushing to be patient, nervously hypothesizing calmness in a patient hyper-frenzy. I'm so patient I can't stand still in the midst of having these imaginative musings on the alternative possibilities of your departure.....In fact thats the only thing that has kept me patient in your presence! Ruminating on the eventual sweetness of your leaving!"




It's not done. I'm only gonna give you more if you want me to, or if someone in a position of authority above you wants me to give it you.