I was in the produce section of the grocery story yesterday when a seemingly normal-looking guy next to me asked, "Can I ask you a question?"
Now, clueless guys in the grocery store are not exactly unheard of...so, thinking he wanted to know the difference between parsley and chives, I said, "Sure,"
Guy: "Well, it is personal."
Me: (not sure what to do)
Guy: "Who did you vote for in the last election?"
Me: (thinking he meant last week) "Umm...yeah...that is personal." (nervous laughing)
Me: (taking a step forward...trying to get away)
Guy: (moving his cart in front of mine) "Well, let me ask you this, how do you think Obama is doing as President so far?"
Me: (really really really creeped out) "Umm...that really is a personal opinion and I think I'll keep it to myself." (turning my cart around and walking the other way...toward the safety of the well-populated checkout area)
Guy: (zooms his cart off toward the bakery...turns around...zooms all the way back around the other end of the aisle to go past me again at which point he says) "Nobody wants to admit their mistakes." (zooms off again)
Me: (standing there thinking, "Did that really just happen?" I saw nobody close enough who might have overheard that I could ask. So I texted Steve about how I'm such a freak I've now become a freak magnet.)
Do I give a flying f*** about politics on the fifth anniversary of the delivery of my stillborn son? Really?
I SWEAR he was normal-looking (shorter-than-me-balding-white-guy-in-his-forties-with-very-blue-unblinking-eyes).
But that IS what they usually say of serial killers..."He seemed so normal."
After our "encounter," I saw him picking up a prescription at the pharmacy...and then a bottle at the state liquor agency...which explains a LOT.