[UA] And this is before I go to work.

[Rachel Young]

Oh, I've got the perfect guy for your girl.

Yesterday, during lunch, I was sitting upstairs from work, happily
nerding away on my laptop when this guy walks up to me.

"Excuse me," he says
"Yes?" I was expecting to be hit up for a cigarette so I wasn't using
my nicest voice but I certainly wasn't unleashing bitch-mode on him.
"It's okay," he assures me, looking away and holding his hand up to
his eye so I can be sure he's not sneaking a sideways glance. "I won't
look at you. It's just that, well, you look like a nice person so I,
uh... I want you to have these because I don't have anyone else to
give them too."

With that he practically throws a bunch of flowers onto the table next
to me and hurries off.

The flowers were nice so I took them with me when I finished up my lunch break.

Why not?

On 7/26/06, Rich Ranallo <zincoxide at gmail.com> wrote:
> Last week, when the homeless hoodoo man stole my DSW bag out of the trash, I
> was pretty sure he'd use it to hex me. Now, I have no doubt.
>
> Not long after Kei left Panera to go see the house, I got out the headphones
> and started listening to Small Change. Somewhere in the middle of the second
> track, I notice someone's hovering right over my table, apparently talking
> to me. A black girl, butch-looking with a fauxhawk. I take off one earpiece,
> but I can't quite make out what she's asking. Slightly annoyed, I remove the
> other...
>
> "What?"
>
> "I just wanted to know...I'm curious." She had some weird accent, or maybe
> it was a speech impediment. I couldn't tell if she was part deaf or from
> Latveria.
>
> "Sorry, I didn't hear what you asked; I have these headphones on."
>
> She gestured toward my computer, or maybe out the window, "I was
> j--just...curious."
>
> "Curious about what? What I'm doing?"
>
> "Y-yes."
>
> "I'm checking my e-mail."
>
> "I am...interested...curious about...multiple humanities."
>
> "...Oh. Well--"
>
> "God, you're cute. Can I have your.. number?"
>
> Looking around, I see my cell phone on the table. Plausible deniability is
> not an option at this point. Normally, any complete fucking lunatic who asks
> for my phone number gets it, no questions asked, but this time it seemed
> wrong, "I...umm, I think my girlfriend wouldn't be too happy if I did that.
> Sorry."
>
> She nodded, then turned and bolted out the door.
>
> --
> From Whom It May Concern,
> Rich Ranallo
>
> "Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood."
> —Daniel H. Burnham
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>
>
>


-- 
Rachel Young