This entire situation was beyond ridiculous, but Idris decided he didn't need to get back to his apartment just yet. Why bother doing that when there was a perfectly good form of entertainment to be found in the downstairs lobby? Everyone else he'd met in Pax so far had seemed normal, in one sense of the word or another. This woman, however, was falling more under the category of unique. Thus far, Idris wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing; there was only one way to find out.
Idris moved closer, taking the box of Wheat Thins out of his bag. Balling the latter up in his hand, he tossed it onto one of the empty chairs to be recycled later, then crouched down near the woman to get a better view of her 'ship.' Even from a close angle there was no way even a third grader could possibly think of it as anything but a hulking mass of fries, but Idris decided to humor her--there was the faint smell of ganja clinging to the woman's clothes, barely there but just enough to explain at least some of her actions. Idris had smoked now and then when he was in high school, depending on whether or not his latest set of friends was into it or not, and it was definitely a smell that was not quickly forgotten.
It also served as an explanation for this woman's actions. Some of them. Idris wasn't too certain about her taste in reading material, but then he never had been much of a bookworm; perhaps he had no place to judge. If it was Fabio that got her the kicks she needed, so be it.
And really, on second glance at the beefy, blond man-hunk that had swashbuckled and waltzed his way into many middle aged women's hearts (and probably a few lonely men's as well), it seemed very possible that the look upon his face could be construed as full of nothing but self-satisfaction. This didn't always go over well with people in reality, and to the french fry sculptor it probably was seen as a form of intimidation, one that she clearly wasn't going to take lying down.
"Here, help yourself." Idris balanced carefully as he opened the Wheat Thins box, setting it down on the floor between himself and his new acquaintance. "Yes, I can see that...but I think you're lacking a mast." He considered the fry art before him, pretending to think deeply on the matter of its very original architecture.