Maybe my superpower is the ability to create essence of bitch and eyebeam it at people

So I dragged my increasingly sick ass off to the SUB to eat with my housemates tonight. I figured I could have applesauce and tea, but they had neither because the SUB on a Friday night is a BARREN WASTELAND DEVOID OF ALL SELECTION.

My stomach said "don't even think about it" to everything else I looked at, so I ambled about in a daze, sort of following Sarah. She heads over to the pasta line to get marinara for her cheese sticks when some hulking tall guy walks up behind her and starts inspecting her plate. Since he's wearing a pink-and-white-striped polo shirt and has pseudo surfer-smoker hair, I assume he's not someone she knows. I wander a little closer in case intervention is needed.

"That's a lot of fried food." *he points to her four cheese sticks and handful of popcorn chicken*
Sarah stares up at him for a moment, then says "Yes, I'm very healthy." (I told her later that I would have cut him off right there by saying "You're a very observant person, aren't you? Want a cheese stick?")

"Well, fried foods just make me go bleeagh." *insert absolutely dumb ape-face here*

I decide intervention is needed. I step forward and give him a sick stare. Not the sad, pathetic stare I usually give when sick and trying to concentrate, but a focused 'I may be about to die, but you're fucking gonna go FIRST' type stare. He looks down at me. I do not blink.

After a few moments, I say, still not blinking: "So you get in the pasta line instead."
"Yeah. Pasta's good."
I'm still not blinking. "Pasta makes me go bleeagh." *insert mimic of absolutely dumb ape-face here*

He pauses, probably trying to figure out if I'm making fun of him, then dives right back in. "Why?"
My head is still at a near-45 degree angle so I can stare at him. I shrug.

"Do you not like Italians?"
I keep staring. "Yes. That's EXACTLY it."
"So it's more of a racism thing."
"Uh-huh."

At this point Sarah turns around and looks at me in mock-shock. "But I'm Italian!"
I break eye contact with the Pink Hulking Ape and turn to her. "Yeah, but you taste GREAT." Then we both turn around and walk away without looking back at him.

Luckily, Daryl was in line behind him, so he told us at dinner when we were filling Matt in that all this guy could do was stare in absolute dumbfoundment as we walked off.

I told Sarah that I had simultaneously used my bitch and energy quota for the day on him for her. She told me to blog it. So I did.

::EDIT::
I wonder if he's the "pink-shirt motherfucker" who someone got in a fight with outside my dorm window last semester....He certainly looked like a fratboy.