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Creeped out
So... last night I was beyond creeped out. I still am, actually. There's this curly haired dude who comes in every so often, and for some reason he's always given me the creeps. Maybe it's that I don't really get the point of having longish curly hair and pulling it into a short ponytail if you're a guy. It's just... ick. Or maybe it was the knowledge that the conversation he tried to have last night was coming.
Dude came in, wanted to know where hot curlers would be. I told him. "Could you, uh, show me?" Dude, walk your freakin' ass to aisle 2 and look. It ain't that hard. But no. I walked him there and he just would not shut up. I don't care what people do to their hair. This afternoon my hair is getting turned pink or red... so, whatever, dude. Then he mentions he had to have a few drinks to be able to ask me [though in this case I think he meant anyone] about zee hair stuff. He kept mentioning his shrink and it was all just very... very weird. So he says he's dressing up like a woman for Halloween and don't I think he'd look good as one? ... Not a pretty guy, and I don't think girlyness will help any, but whatever floats his boat. Dude skips past the pleasantries and is all, "I have ovaries and" about that time my brain just said, "Christ. Why me? Why tonight?" Dude. You want to go through your year [I don't think he caught onto the fact that it's at least a year] as a woman before you get whatever you're doing done, fine. Points for honesty. Points off for repeatedly reffering to your shrink, the need for booze, and the fact that you seemed to understand that I'd rather have a cavity filled than see you all dressed up as a woman. Then as he was paying, he asked for part of his cash back to be in fives. So I did, trying desperately to ignore the thought of him coming back to the store while I'm working. Ever. He leaves a five on the counter and starts saying something about how he just wants a friend.
Holy Christ on a cracker. It took me about two minutes to realize he meant me. Dude, he's like... old 30-something. He gives me the creeps. I'm not looking for friends who begin every sentence with a word from their shrink. The creep factor, high.
And now I feel a bit weird. Oddly enough, the transgendered thing only bugs me as a lead-off. Perhaps due to a "been there, done that" reaction, or... I dunno. Anyhow. Kept the $5, though I'd intended to put it back in the register. Might do that tonight, or give it to Mom. I have no intention of spending it as I'd feel weird. I did try to give it back to the guy.
Creepy. I worry, a smidge, that I'm a bitch for being creeped out, but... man, if you met him... I'll take Panyhose Guy any day of the week over this guy. Some internal siren is going off and shrieking, "Psycho, psycho, psycho!"
Sigh. And the overly nice part of me says, "you should be more accepting." Of what, I don't know. I plan on shoving a pepsi down her throat and telling her to shuddup. :p
Creepy. :/
Dude came in, wanted to know where hot curlers would be. I told him. "Could you, uh, show me?" Dude, walk your freakin' ass to aisle 2 and look. It ain't that hard. But no. I walked him there and he just would not shut up. I don't care what people do to their hair. This afternoon my hair is getting turned pink or red... so, whatever, dude. Then he mentions he had to have a few drinks to be able to ask me [though in this case I think he meant anyone] about zee hair stuff. He kept mentioning his shrink and it was all just very... very weird. So he says he's dressing up like a woman for Halloween and don't I think he'd look good as one? ... Not a pretty guy, and I don't think girlyness will help any, but whatever floats his boat. Dude skips past the pleasantries and is all, "I have ovaries and" about that time my brain just said, "Christ. Why me? Why tonight?" Dude. You want to go through your year [I don't think he caught onto the fact that it's at least a year] as a woman before you get whatever you're doing done, fine. Points for honesty. Points off for repeatedly reffering to your shrink, the need for booze, and the fact that you seemed to understand that I'd rather have a cavity filled than see you all dressed up as a woman. Then as he was paying, he asked for part of his cash back to be in fives. So I did, trying desperately to ignore the thought of him coming back to the store while I'm working. Ever. He leaves a five on the counter and starts saying something about how he just wants a friend.
Holy Christ on a cracker. It took me about two minutes to realize he meant me. Dude, he's like... old 30-something. He gives me the creeps. I'm not looking for friends who begin every sentence with a word from their shrink. The creep factor, high.
And now I feel a bit weird. Oddly enough, the transgendered thing only bugs me as a lead-off. Perhaps due to a "been there, done that" reaction, or... I dunno. Anyhow. Kept the $5, though I'd intended to put it back in the register. Might do that tonight, or give it to Mom. I have no intention of spending it as I'd feel weird. I did try to give it back to the guy.
Creepy. I worry, a smidge, that I'm a bitch for being creeped out, but... man, if you met him... I'll take Panyhose Guy any day of the week over this guy. Some internal siren is going off and shrieking, "Psycho, psycho, psycho!"
Sigh. And the overly nice part of me says, "you should be more accepting." Of what, I don't know. I plan on shoving a pepsi down her throat and telling her to shuddup. :p
Creepy. :/
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