Lunch with bunny

Had my lunch at eatery. (It still seems to be the word out there that looking “fabulous” will make you smart... psst... it does not.)
The place was packed. I was by myself. The chances of getting a seat at a table with air conditioning were very slim. I decided to sit outside. It was just me and a napkin, a tiny plate, a fork, a knife and 9th avenue. The napkins at eatery are the vicious fabric kind, the ones that leave white marks on everything but white clothing.
I made a little rabbit puppet out of my napkin, put it on top of my salt shaker and positioned the arrangements for a photograph in front of me on the table. A lady stopped by me on 9th avenue, touched my shoulder and asked, very gently, her head sly slanted, if I were going to have lunch with my little bunny friend. I smiled back. I told her that I was not very comfortable with the place, but that the food was so good that I had to do anything to break the spell.
I whispered to the bunny, that next time, we would need to dress up better. I made him into a boat, but he fell apart. My food came. It was good indeed.