With Friends Like That, I'd Be Better Off With Enemies

There's this man, old man, that works next door to the drugstore I work at, and he buys his cigarettes from us. He also has a not so subtle crush on me. He's 51. That's 5 years older than my dad. And he works part-time at a fast food chain, has been evicted twice in the last year, and is greasy, icky, gross, skeezy.

So, pretty much every time he comes in, my coworkers find a way to make me talk to him. Tonight I was zoning the back when E----- paged me to the front. I didn't see him until it was too late to turn around and hide, so I had to go up to ask what she needed even though U------ was up there and could have taken care of anything she needed. When I asked what she needed (I was already pretty sure of the answer), she said that J--- just wanted to speak to me and make my day.

The whole time J--- was talking, I was glaring daggers at U------ and E-----. If I could have killed them then, I would have. He just kept talking about going home to bake a cheesecake (which they were quick to tell him I liked and would love to try), and how his online classes are going.

Eventually, he ran out of things to say (twice) and he just stood there looking at me awkwardly while I imagined U------ and E----- spontaneously combusting.

Finally, an old couple walked up and asked me where something was. Now, I knew we didn't have what they wanted, and I knew exactly where it would be if we carried it, but I insisted on helping them look for it as though it might actually be there. I pretty much ran to the back with them without even acknowledging that I was walking away from a conversation.

The lady even said that they didn't mean to interrupt, but I told her it was fine. Then, when I walked back up front, I made absolutely certain that J--- was already gone. Then, I proceeded to berate my "friends."