Cast: Me, a person bothering no one, trying to get some writing done at a cafe in Adams Morgan.
You, a stupid person with stupid shoes, stupid jeans, a stupid bag and a stupid class ring necklace like it’s still 1985.
You: Is anyone sitting here?
Me: No.
Me in My Head: I hate you.
There is no space for You. You sit down anyway.
Me in My Head: I am going to install a proximity warning in my skin and if anyone like You ever gets this close to me again, it will emit a piercing whistle that will render you deaf. Being deaf will heighten your other senses, like your vision, which will cause you to see how stupid your shoes are. Then, next time, you will buy less stupid shoes. Also, you will not sit next to me. One stone. Two birds.
Displaced 
Having an off day? Cheeky little thing you are when conversing with yourself. Perhaps randomly distibuting various items on all available seats in your proximity will curtail future acts of stupidity by strangers.
This just happened to me again and I’ve decided that the only reasonable solution is to *remove* all the chairs within three feet of my real estate. I’ll bring a little ax and make some handy kindling…