KINDA CREEPY

There’s this guy I see on my bus route relatively frequently who sets me on edge. He’s not really my cup of tea and is on the short side, but I frequently catch him smiling at me. I cannot describe why this makes me uneasy, since on the face of it, there’s nothing at all wrong with being friendly with strangers on the bus. There’s just a vibe about him. Some kind of sociopathic, lives in his mother’s basement and catalogues an extensive collection of dryer lint in his spare time air around him. I have no basis for this entirely unfair assessment, but that’s how I read him, despite exchanging only brief greetings on a couple of occasions.

Now there he is, in my corner coffee shop, smiling at me while I’m trying to look busy and deeply engrossed in my iPhoto collection. Sure he was here when I got here, and beyond the ubiquitous furtive grinning, he hasn’t made any move to invade my Sunday afternoon peace. Of all the people to cross over from the world of my work week commute to my weekend leisure world, it would have to be the short, kinda creepy dude.

Yep, the antisocial tendencies run deep.