Monday, February 12, 2007

The Man, The Myth, The Laptop

Hey there....

Yes, you. The guy in the glasses. Yes, you...with the monobrow, and the flourescent pallor. The guy who probably lives in his momma's basement. The guy who is surfing the free internet at Starbucks, not typing, possibly playing WOW or browsing porn sites, and listening to every word we are saying?

You are staring. I am trying not to look back at you, which is hard because your eyes are glued. Hence the waving around of the wedding ring, in a fruitless attempt to discourage you. Your desperation is palpable from three tables away. Even when my friend and I start a conversation about how we loathe being stared at, you do not take the hint.

When I get up and go to the bathroom, you lean over and say, "Hi there", to my friend. She says "Hi" back, because she is polite. A creepy silence ensues until I get back. She does not introduce us.

We are finally so skeeved out that we leave. You follow right behind us. To be safe, we hang around outside the 'Bucks and wait for you to get into your car. You are watching us so intently, you back out in the wrong direction, and end up having to do a 32 point turn because you are facing a dead end instead of the parking lot exit.

EW! Ew ew ew ew ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

We then start quoting lines from Silence Of the Lambs at each other.

For example, "Are you about a size 14?" *heavy breathing*

"It puts the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again!!"

Yeah, we are twisted like that.

Seriously, I am not sure if I looked hot today, or I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe. In addition to Leering Larry, I had two different groups of men abruptly stop talking when I waked past them today, which always makes me a little paranoid.

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