Gaynip’s Stalker

I met my stalker today.

He was well into my personal space today.  Leaned in to show me a big glittering pink gem on his ring.  “La Vie en Rose” he mumbles to me.  I did a bit on Friday about Louis Armstrong and the song “La Vie en Rose” and joked that before I worked at the Jewel, I thought he was singing about underpants and bras.  I don’t know if Louis was subtly trying to tell me that he heard my little joke.

Leh wasn’t helping.

“Did you see that movie, Patch Adams?”

“Uh, yeah.  Once, when it came out.”

“Yeah.  Remember Robin Williams is in it.  He’s a doctor and he tells that girl that the guy is just being nice and he’s harmless?”

“Vaguely?”

“Then the guy killed her.”

“…That doesn’t make me feel better!”

“No!  I’m saying, just because he looks harmless doesn’t mean he is.”

“He doesn’t look harmless at all!!”

The guy looked big, crazy and did I mention big?  BIG.  Tall.  Heavy set.  Giant hands.  He sculpts (some nice stuff actually) so you know he doesn’t have flabby weak wet-noodle girl arms.  He could choke a bear.

I am going to end up in a pit hearing these words, “It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.”

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