Memoirs Of J

Last Friday evening I had to make a trip to CVS to buy a personal…eh…feminine item.  Since I am an immature tard, I felt compelled to buy other items to go along with the personal item so it wouldn’t be so obvious to the cashier (that I will never see again) that I was at CVS for a very specific reason.

Mistake.

Being cheap and not really needing to buy anything per se, I decided that I should just grab a couple of snacks and call it good.  So I’m in the snack aisle perusing the cookies when I was interrupted by a very rotund, greasy man.  I’d say 40ish and very obese sporting a dirty too-small gray shirt with grease stains, ragged jeans, and disgusting oily unkempt hair.

“Must be movie night, huh?” he inquired.

“Uh, yep.  Sure,” I replied as I awkwardly looked around.

“I do the same thing. I could eat a whole box in a night.  That kind is really good,” referring to the Chips Ahoy I was about to grab.

I laughed uncomfortably and thought to myself, ‘yeah no shit – it’s pretty clear you eat continuously.’

“My name’s Chris, by the way.”

“Oh hi, yeah nice to meet you,” I said without even looking at him.  I started playing with my wedding ring thinking it would make this creeper disappear.

Nope.  He kept on jabbering about who knows what.  I wasn’t really listening at all at this point. I grabbed a pack of cookies and and since he was still blabbing I muttered something like “well, have a good one,” and simply walked out of the aisle into the next aisle.  We were out of milk so I wanted to grab a gallon on the way out.

Well of course this creep intercepts me in front of the refrigerators and says some dorky thing like “fancy meeting you again.”  I said nothing at this point and simply got my milk and started walking away.  He then goes, “Well nice chatting with you.  Hopefully I’ll see you here again – maybe I can treat you to a movie or something.”

Holy shit, mother f*&*(#!!   I hightailed it up to the register and basically threw my debit card at the person so I could get the hell out of there, car out of the parking lot before this guy could see my car or anything.