I live in a semi-rural area. There are four little towns clustered around an interstate, surrounded by the Mojave desert. My little town is furthest from the interstate. We're almost...almost... semi-bucolic. Quasi-bucolic, maybe.
But we do have a Wal*Mart. It's across Hwy 18, and down the block from the City Hall. The post office is about five miles further east on Hwy 18. Much too far to walk. And the closest emergency room is about five miles west on Hwy 18. So we have a local bus system. And naturally, Wal*Mart is a stop on the bus line...
So I was at Wal*Mart, and in a fit of secular enthusiasm, I parked as far from the front door as I could. Which put me right next to the bus stop.
When I returned to my car, it was dark. I was loading dog food and sparkling water into my vehicle... I glanced up and made eye contact with a woman on a bus that was in the process of loading. She looked to be 'ethnic,' in her 30s, with a young boy seated next to her. The eye contact, for me, didn't last long... due to my shyness. But I could see that she kept watching me.
So there I am, with my share of problems..., wishing, hoping, conniving, trying to overcome the obstacles I think are present in my life. And it hit me, that the woman on the bus was looking at me and day-dreaming that I was the man in her life, with a car and a job, clean looking, no tattoos, short hair, kind of cute... I could just picture her day-dreaming about me, just like I've day-dreamed about guys who were passing me on the freeway in hot, hot cars, with $2,000/day escorts... Female escorts...
So I felt, for the moment, pretty good. She had me on a sort of pedestal, and it kind of felt pleasant.
And then I got in my vehicle and drove home, making sure that while I was her view, I didn't do anything to spoil her revere.
I wonder if she'll stalk me?
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7 comments:
I should rather like a stalker. Not because I actually want to fear for my life and privacy, but because I feel I'm worth stalking, and it's about time someone else realized this.
Way to get one step closer to living the dream.
One fine summer morning years ago I awoke to find a rather large woman had gotten herself stuck in my bedroom window, half in and half out. She was headed in at the time of enstuckenment.
She was still there when I left for work.
Bert, you continue to entertain me with your perspective. Thinking of you, I have begun to hang out at burn centers, thinking that the ladies there would rarther like an aging, overweight, stud like myself. It is all a matter of perpective. Afterall, rolling in the mud is far more perfereable to a worm than a day fishing.
I was once stalked by a woman I called six-toed Sally (not her real name, that was Extra-Toe Elizabeth. I wrote about her months ago. I'll repost it, because it makes me rather happy to know I was once wanted.
Wait a minute! You're "kind of cute"??? I never in my wildest dreams imagined. I'm on the next bus for California, the one that stops at Wal-Mart, looking for that guy on the pedestal, the one with a car and a job and no tatoos.
The only one who ever stalked me was a psychopath who wanted to sue the school. He didn't get very far with either. I think that's him peeping in my window right now.
Who said nothing ever happens in Lower Alabama? Maybe I should stay.
Chris, did you ever find out how she got unstuck? Do you two still exchange Christmas cards?
Artie, I'm getting some wine and cheese before I go read about your Summer At Woodstalk...
Even-Handed Hope, don't tease me like that!!! You Southern women just love to toy with mens' circulatory pumps.
Or any pump we can get ahold of...
You said she was "ethinic" so you didn't spot me. I like to stalk in secret, but just know I'm watching.
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