Zooey remained speechless. She was quick to draw back, instinctively telling herself this man was indeed insane and that she should run, far as to avoid some sort of Silence of the Lambs incident. Yet, something, her curiosity perhaps, kept her drawn to him, focused and determined to find out not only his story, but his odd obsession with her.

Reid tipped his hat back down over his eyes, and then back up again, as if it didn’t exactly fit and he had to find some painless way to wear the hat so that he could avoid some sort of hat-related aneurism. He watched Zooey with a smirk on his face, waiting for her avid, shocked response, but she suprised him as she leaned back and crossed her arms and intently stared back, challenging.

“You know,” she said, “One of your eyes is bigger than the other, kind of like Mick Jones.”

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, “You had to compare me to the least attractive member of a band that I’m not really fond of. You know, Joe Strummer’s eyes didn’t match either…”