Still sleeping during my YMCA hours—you make my life so exciting!  My evening naps require little effort yet run a long-winded conversation with mine body and mind, leaving me with little energy for a long winded run upon the treadmill.  More, upon awakening, I decided to take my dinner at a local family diner, long regarded for its lack of a certain element.  I am wearing a bland shirt, and slippers with dark socks.  The shirt is brown, which evokes the color of homemade pot roast; and that is by no means an accident.  While walking in, I swung the currency crumpled in my hand around to signify my intention to patronize the establishment, and to make it clear I am not without monetary funds.  My environment will now view me as a patron, whereupon a server will pour me water—in a cup, not on me—and I will nod at the appropriate moment, not after he's gone, to signify I appreciate his gesture.  I will nod, staring straight ahead, not up but down, and not to any particular member of the family dining in the adjacent booth.

Once in a while, they will hear adjacent words infiltrate the tone of their booth, words to the tone of, This is some good-ass gravy.