Dear Aggressive Fellow in Office Depot:
I’m not sure I adequately displayed my shock at your approach in the printer ink aisle.
I thought maybe you thought I worked there.
But then when you got very close and asked me if I had a husband or boyfriend, I knew I was wrong.
It was flattering, for sure. Especially as I had my hair piled on top of my head, didn’t have makeup on, and was wearing a Fishbone shirt and raggedy shorts.
But when I said, “Yes,” you were skeptical.
“Are you sure?”
I held up my left hand.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“But I like you. Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?”
“I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”
Then you dropped this line:
“I’m Guatemalan.”
OH! Well in THAT case!
But seriously, “a new man” was not on my shopping list.
And I don’t think the lady you were with would have appreciated your activity 10 feet away.
But you did give me a great story to tell, so thanks.
And you do have moxie.
Impressed,
Beth
Observe and report 
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