I haz problem. It's not a huge problem, but I'm rather weirded out by the entire situation.
There is a grocery store just a block from my apartment. It's a lovely grocery, and I do most of my shopping there. Being a vegetarian, I spend half my time in the produce section. I do like vegetables after all. I've been shopping at this store for about four months--since we moved to the new place. Jason used to go shopping with me, but lately he has been a lazy lout and has been handing his credit card off to me to buy the foodstuffs so he doesn't have to go. About a month ago, I was shopping all by my lonesome, gathering ingredients for a fantastic salad to have with some spaghetti. It was an odd time to be shopping, and I was the only person in the produce section. The fellow who stocks the produce (a man in his late 40's) came up and asked if I was finding everything. He nosed about in my cart and asked me what I was making. I told him. We had a brief conversation about my dinner in which he repeatedly asked me if I was finding everything, if he could help me, blah-de-blah. The entire conversation lasted two minutes, but he kept following me around the produce area, encroaching on my personal space. Needless to say, I high-tailed it out of there ASAP.
He's approached me several times since then. It's obvious that he remembers me because he gets this little gleam in his eye and runs over to ask me if I need help. It's not conscientious-employee-helps-customers; it's gone into the weird and creepy territory. I've even seen him staring at me when he's helping another customer. I'm not one of those chicks that thinks I'm hot stuff, believing that of course he should be checking me out. My initial reaction when all this started was that he was socially awkward and eager to please customers, not that he was interested in me. Now, I'm getting the creep vibes, and that's just not cool.
The last time I was in the grocery store, I saw him rolling a cart of produce out of the storage area in the back. I was standing in line at the deli, and he had to walk past me to get to where he was going. I would never intentionally be rude to someone who isn't rude to me first, and I thought it would be rude and terribly obvious if I glued my eyes to the floor and ignored him. Plus I thought I might be overreacting about the whole situation. So, I glanced at him and nodded my head politely. Maybe I smiled just the slightest bit; I don't know. Anyway, his eyes lit up like 4th of July fireworks and he hurried over to where I was standing. By then I had averted my eyes and started staring at the slabs of meat in the deli case. He all but pawed through my cart, asking me questions about what was for dinner and how I am and can he get me anything. I suck at being gracious in uncomfortable situations. I just suck at that. So, any interaction with him is painful for me. My skin starts to crawl, and I want to run to the other side of the store.
I wonder if an anonymous comment in the comment box at the store will fix anything. Something along the lines of, Please tell produce fellow to pay more attention to the vegetables than the female customers.
I kid, I kid. But, really, I've started treating my time at the grocery store like a military operation. Get in, get out, without getting caught by the enemy. I can't even describe that creepy little look he gets in his eyes when he sees me. Surely, there are other more attractive woman who shop there? Can't he lay that overwhelming charm at their feet? I told Jason about a couple of the instances, and he thinks it's weird and slightly amusing. So much for him swooping in to save me like a manly-man.
I don't want to run amidst the vegetables like I'm on Supermarket Sweep with only a minute on the clock before he returns with a fresh crop of broccoli from the back, but I have no idea what to do. I'd feel silly actually complaining to the store manager because the produce fellow really has done nothing wrong. I suppose I could act like Miss Bitch McBitchyPants, but that's just not my personality. I would feel horrible, even if he's a creep-o.
Go away, produce guy! Go stock the cabbage while I sort out what kind of lettuce I want for dinner. I bet Skinner would save me from the creepy guy. (::pets icon::) He'd swoop in, identify himself as an Assistant Director with the FBI
(you know he'd say 'FBI' all slow and sexy-like) and demand that the produce dude be arrested for harassing little 'ol me. And then he'd be all suave and debonair and ask me to dinner at a lovely restaurant without coming off like a perv. Oh, yes... in my imaginary world. Pigs also fly, you know.