getting picked up while i pick-up

this past week it has been all about the chinese food around the corner for me. just the other night i hit my 99¢ store to pick up some mochi ice cream and at the counter just in front of me i see some pony tailed stocky hobbit in a gross flannel shirt, stone washed jeans and timberlands. he was picking up some raspberry smirnoff. guess he had a really hard day at his computer.

i walk out about two steps behind him, it’s late and we are the only two on the block. we are walking in sync and i sure as hell am not going to slow my pace for his comfort and security. he hears the clickity clack of the ball that jingles in my favorite pair of wedges that i wear everyday. i have no desire fix this rattling, people always know when im on the block. so he hears my shoe rattling behind him, turns his head and gives me a dirty look for following closely. whatever, im about to turn into the chinese resto two doors down and lose this hobbit.

but of course, he frolics right in to pick up his usual. he hears me rattle my way in behind him, turns to me and asks if im stalking him because “i wouldn’t mind it if you were.” i giggle politely and say, “umm no im just picking up.” he collects his order and notices that i have a short wait so he plops down at the table next to me to arrange his take-out in the same bag as his smirnoff while staring at me. clearly he isn’t picking up on the signals like my back turned to him, im hunched over and fiddling with my phone praying to my lord and savior that he doesn’t approach me. i imagine he was also looking to his lord, gandolf of lord of the rings, for a witty exit line to shoot me.

single gals nightly companion

not to my surprise, after several minutes, the hobbit gussies up the admirable courage to tap me on the shoulder (men, don’t tap, it’s weak and creepy), “i wish your next victim luck and i hope to catch you lurking behind me again.” i kindly give a chuckle, “oh. right. byee,” i mutter. my asian friends give me a sympathetic look as they hand me my order, “he nice young man.”

great! now my chinese take-out place is trying to play match maker. it’s already embarrassing enough walking out of there alone on a thursday night with my smiley faced plastic bag holding my dinner for one.

x suz