Last Friday, after doing all the family shopping in town I wanted a rest before catching the train, so I bought a newspaper and some chocolate and went into the station coffee shop. It was a cheap self-service place with long table to keep a place and went to get a cup of coffee. When I came back with the coffee, there was someone in the next seat. It was one of those wild-looking boys, with dark glasses and old clothes, and his hair was colored bright red at the front. What did surprise me was that he'd started to eat my chocolate. I was rather uneasy about him, but I didn't want to make more trouble. I just looked down at the front page of the newspaper, tasted my coffee and took a bit of chocolate. The boy looked at me closely. Then he took a second piece of chocolate. I could hardly believe it. Still I didn't say anything to him. When he took a third piece, I felt angrier. I thought, well, I shall have the last piece. "And I got it." The boy gave me a strange look, and then stood up. As he left he shouted out, "There is something wrong with the woman," Everybody looked at me, but it was worse then I finished my coffee and got ready to leave. My face turned red when I knew I'd made a mistake. I wasn't my chocolate that I had eaten. There was mine, just under my newspaper. When the writer came back to the table, she was surprised because  _  .
her chocolate had been eaten up the boy was eating her chocolate there was a boy sitting next to her what the boy did seemed quite rude