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The crazy man with the high pitched voice and the meaty hands won’t stop staring at me. When I look up, he looks away. He’s not very sneaky at all. I see him watching me. I think he loves me. I’m flattered, but creeped out because I am not gay and if I were, I’d be attracted to a much less creepy dude.

He got up and approached me, and I could feel that he was about to initiate some horrible kind of small talk. I pretended to have a heart attack, then stopped half way through when I realized he might try cpr.

So there we were, me on the floor, and him looking down at me concerned. This was the way my Wednesday ended.