Day 43: Creeped Out

Strawberries and Creme Frappuccino (no coffee included, obviously).

I went to Starbucks to do my photography class today, and ended up writing the following.

I’m sitting in the Starbucks trying to do my photography class, and I’m getting leary-eyed looks from the guy sitting across from me in the lounging area.  It’s creepy.  But creepier than that is that this is the second guy to blatantly look at me with obvious lewdness since I left the office 20 minutes ago.  The other guy was riding his red dirt bike in front of me out of the business park, and weaving around on the empty street like some sort of chubby maverick.  Wearing jean shorts (a HUGE pet peeve of mine with motorcyclists.  It’s like they’re ASKING to have the skin removed from their legs) and a dirty t-shirt, he looked like a Christ Farley clone ("living in a van, down by the river!").  He even had white-blonde hair sticking out unevenly beneath his helmet.  NOT my type.  When we stopped at the light, I could see him checking me out from his rear-view mirror.  I was amused until he turned around (and he had to twist all the way around because he had no peripheral vision in his ugly helmet) and – I’m not joking or making this up – he pulled the double eyebrows on me, in a long, drawn out way that was astonishingly pervvy.  It was so violating!  

Both times I haven’t had a clue how to react to these guys, aside from looking away.  Although, to be honest, I probably gave them both dirty looks because when I’m truly shocked and grossed out like that, I can’t help but give dirty looks…I’ve been told.  I actually don’t notice at all when I do it.

Anyway, as I sit here writing this little diatribe about creeps, the one in front of me continues to look up from his book and stare.  I glanced up a moment ago to find him tonguing his iced coffee as he looked at me with interest.  I just threw up in my mouth a little, having to type out that disturbing moment.  Let’s set aside the fact that he’s a pervert, and talk about his fashion sense for a minute.  This puny creep looks like a nerded-out Gollum, with dark blonde, spiky hair, and a pock-marked face.  Probably a nine-to-fiver like me, it looks like he shrank after he put his clothes on.  He’s wearing a burnt-orange button up (that’s too big) with what looks like baggy tweed slacks that are too short (the tops of his white tube socks are clearly visible).  Cap it off with a braided belt (saw it when he stood up for a refill) and the taupe, size-too-big Doc Martins (that he’s probably owned since the 90’s), and you've got a nerdy cubicle rat plotting his next kill.  I feel like I should be more afraid, but I’m just really grossed out. 

I feel so ashamed too, because I almost just typed, “at least this guy isn't as ugly as the other one.”  That may not be as offensive if I had ACTUALLY seen the other guy’s face.  But most of his face was covered in his helmet.  I’m basing this comparison solely on the fact that the other guy was fat and blonde.  I know...I'm totally shallow.  

Also, after reading this entry, I realized how mean-spirited I came off sounding.  I am a bad person.