Creepers Be All Up On Me, Yo

I'm trying so hard not to be mundane and run out of exciting things to talk about. That's not working out so well, because life seems to be at a bit of a standstill.

OH! But I do have one story to share!

Okay, so, I got the job working as a cashier, because I've totally worked with at least five different cash registers in four years and I have great people skills. This was also due in part to Aunt, who manages one of the branches.

One of the requirements for the uniform is a white, button-down, collared shirt. I have turquoise, green, and orange...but no white. So I was all, "Omg I love thrift storessss" and hunted one down yesterday. It's not in a shady area of town, per se. It's in one of those bizarre locations, though, where people drives Mercedes' on one side of the street, and people walk on the other. Y'know, like...this side of the road is lovely, and that side is creepy. Thrift Shop is, surprisingly, on the lovely side.

So, I go into Thrift Shop, and immediately locate men's clothing. They do have a lot of nice shirts, but none of them are white. They had a really nice red one that I loved, but I resisted. "I'm not buying aaaanything but a white shirt," I said to myself. ...my resolve fell apart, by the way, the instant I saw a collection of Shakespeare's work on the discount bookshelf, but that can be expected.

Anyway, I left Thrift Shop without the shirt (but with five plays), and decided it was time to find a Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, I couldn't locate one immediately. Fortunately, there was a K-Mart right there. Unfortunately, it was on the creepy side. I, however, was not observant enough to realize that this was so until I was in the store (henceforth know at Ghetto K-Mart).

I go into Ghetto K-Mart, feeling rather terrified, because I'm a small guy in an unfamiliar area of town in a Ghetto K-Mart. I find the shirt I need, buy it, and head out the door.

As I'm crossing the parking lot, I hear someone shout, "Hey, guy! Guy! ...girl?" At this point, I realized he was talking to me. Not because he said girl, mind you, but because when I turned around, he switched back to "guy."

He gets out of a big white creeper van about six parking spots away from where I'm parked. I'm just thinking "Whaaat does he want? ..." He crosses over talking about trying to find a Wal-Mart, but getting lost. Apparently, Ghetto K-Mart is the mecca for people who can't find Wal-Mart. I told him I didn't know where one was, but I could find out via GPS. I opened my car door, and safely placed myself between the door and the car, where I could duck away quickly. I'm not stupid...I do have some inkling of street smarts, thank you very much. I can also hold my own pretty well, but it didn't seem necessary.

I couldn't find Wal-Mart on the GPS, so I suggested maybe asking someone who was more familiar with the area. He didn't seem to interested in finding Wal-Mart. He was eyeing me and my car. He asked if I had a phone he could use, and I quickly changed the subject. "I'm sorry, I don't let creepers use my phone. I'm low on minutes, sorry." Then he starts talking about my car. I realized, at this point, that he was moving dangerously close to me, and kept talking, really fast. When he got too close for personal comfort with a complete stranger who drives a creeper van and kinda looks like he might be a serial killer, I played the "I'm sorry, I've got a job interview in a few minutes, so I need to go," at which point he backed off really fast, said his good-bye and watched me leave. ...creepily.

So, basically, yesterday, I almost got carjacked/kidnapped/raped/murdered/possibly-all-of-the-above. And I'm surprsingly amused by it. As I pulled out, I kinda laughed a little bit, like, "That totally just happened." And then I was like "o.O omgthattotallyjusthappened*shudder*" and went on with my day. Thank goodness for smooth talking and handling situations carefully, right? Right.