jeepers, creeper

I frequently head over to the forest preserve at lunch time to get away from the land of cubes and enjoy a good book in my car, surrounded by quiet and nature. Sounds like the perfect hour-long break in the day, right?

It normally is.

So today I’m sitting there in my car reading (doors always locked ’cause you just never know), minding my own business and this minivan pulls up behind my car and stops. I see his creepy face in my side view mirror. And he decides to back up and park right next to me. Like literally the spot to my right even though the other 250 parking spaces are all free. There is no one else around. So he’s sitting there in his sweet piece of shit minivan and I figure if I keep reading and ignore him, he’ll get the hint that I’m not there to get to know him better. I hold my book up higher just to be sure he sees that I am clearly occupied. Well this guy will. not. leave. And I can FEEL him staring at me and I get the shivers. My heart starts pounding as I get more and more uncomfortable. I start having visions of him getting out of his car and walking up to my window, or worse yet, pulling out a gun. There is no one else around and I know I’m not absorbing one word I read on the 3 pages I flip through ’cause all I can think about is this skeezer who is probably married with children and a nanny and a dog, sitting in his car staring at me. He’s waiting for me to make some sort of move; he’s hoping for a nooner. Trust me, I see it happen there regularly as I nibble on my pb&j – someone should do a case study on forest preserve solicitation. Anywho, I finally decide that he isn’t going to be leaving on his own accord anytime soon, so I glance over at him for the first time, and blech, he has his window rolled down and he’s just STARING at me with his chin propped up on his fist.

At least I know where his hand is but still, I want to throw up my Wheaties. I give him the most disgusted look my face can muster and peel out of there so fast trying not to hit Bambi on my way out. I go back to work and finish my lunch break in my car in the parking garage.

2 hours later, I still feel like I need to shower ’cause my skin is still crawling with the disgusting dirtiness he wiped all over me with his eyes.

Why oh why are forest preserves the latest truck stops? Way to kill my love for nature, Pervy Magoo.



Filed under ridiculousness

2 responses to “jeepers, creeper

  1. Pingback: poop and oatmeal… « rabit stew

  2. Pingback: peace | rabit stew

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