Did anyone get a visit from this weirdo? In our private parking lot at 6 a.m. this morning, playing his guitar and singing at the top of his lungs. Trenchcoat. Could've been a Yale grad student, could've been a street druggie (or both). It was so bizarre, we were asking ourselves hours later if it really happened (it did). He was not cool enough for it to be some sort of one-man flash mob, nor to be serenading anyone in some sort of misguided romantic gesture (6 a.m. on a Saturday? really?), nor did he sound talented enough to be trying for a record deal, so he was either on drugs, doing a dare, or is possibly a guitar-playing serial killer. It was so effing creepy (and annoying because i was exhausted!) i cannot tell you. Anyone? anyone? My anger is just barely edged out by my curiosity.