The Person I am Next to is Being Reasonable, but I am Still Scared

I'm next to this guy. He is wearing a heathered maroon button down, and grey jeans. He has on these oxford shoes that have seen better days, and bright blue socks that peek out when he crosses his legs. He is sitting at a table in this coffee shop with an unwieldy looking laptop in front of him. While I have, on several occasions, tried to covertly glance at his screen, I can't quite figure out what he is doing. Aside from endangering us all.

In some strange quirk of architecture the plug nearest Grey Jeans Guy is located some six feet up the wall. Rather than run his laptop plug directly up the wall, Grey Jeans Guy has, in some misguided attempt at politeness, plugged a power strip with a 3 foot cord into the plug, and then plugged in his own laptop. This results in a pendulum of electric danger lightly swaying above a strangely flammable business. I am hypnotized, not only by the back and forth motion of the strip, but also the tiny blue sparks that occasionally surge into the plugs that are just hanging on.

The imminent conflagration which threatens to slowly devour everyone in this coffee shop is not entirely Grey Jeans Guy's fault. Other contributing factors include; a bundle (passel, gross, ream?) of napkins that seemingly have gone untouched this year (and look like they would crumble at a the merest touch), a potted plant who was last watered when the napkins were placed out and has a similar level of desiccation, and a can of kerosene with a rag sticking out of the top port.

One of those I made up.

Why? Because logically I get that this is hyperbole. I know that those sparks won't jump a foot through the air onto any of the (real) combustibles I mentioned. But, I can't help feeling nervous about this. Part of me wants to say something. How would I even do that? Excuse me sir, I have a vivid imagination so could you please plug in your laptop differently? I bet he would do it too. This is the mid-west, we are a polite people. But, I guess asking him to move because I am neurotic wouldn't be polite. I will just have to make my peace with the very unlikely case that I will become a statistic.

The worst part? My battery is running low, and he holds the closest plug.

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