The weirdo lady.

"I would really rather if you didn't--"

The weirdo lady interrupts me and starts talking again.

I stopped paying attention to what she was saying an hour ago.

I wonder if it's my fault for being too much of a pussy to force her to leave or if she's just an unusually stubborn cosplayer.

I sit on the end of the gurney bed, it's part of my costume as a lobotomy survivor zombie type thing.

"Ma'am," I begin again, "This is a sci-fi convention. Not a medieval festival."

The woman gives me a harsh glare and continues to blither.

I desperately hope that someone will come into my room so that I can finally get rid of this creep.