I was walking through my bookstore today, and briefly made eye
contact with a guy to see if he needed help. He obviously knew where
he was going so I gave a slight nod and kept walking.
Let me pause to describe this gentleman before we get any farther
into this tale: He was a fat man in his late fifties. He was wearing
a track suit and looked like a sausage stuffed into a too tight
polyester casing.
Okay, with that visual in mind, let's continue.
So I nod and walk along and in response to my bare acknowledgment of
the man's existence he does a combination wink/head-tilt/tongue-
click. With no irony. Like a dude in a bad 80's movie. Completely
serious.
I about busted a gut.
2 comments:
Oh, so what you're saying is, you've inherited the geezer-magnet gene. Poor girl.
unfortunatately, that type of reaction from that type of person, usually sets my flesh a crawlin'.
There's nought as queer as folk!
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