Burlington Coat Factory - Part 1
On most days, my life is like the movie 'Groundhog day'. I wake up around nine, work until 7, relax until one in the morning and then go to bed again. I wear the same things, talk to the same people, smoke the same cigarettes, watch the same Boston terrier shit on my lawn, and then sleep alone in the same room where I spend most of my life. On most days, I am a robot. The one day a week in which I get to switch it up is on my day off. I hate leaving the house this day, mainly because I deal with people all week. If I have to get up and go somewhere, I will almost positively run into another person at some point or another. They will say things like "Hello" and "How are you today?", and inevitably I will have to respond with some pleasantries, which makes me feel like I'm back at work. If I could, I would knock down anyone that talked to me on my only day off. But alas, I am far too nice of a person to do this.
Painfully nice is a phrase I've heard describing myself from time to time. I dont really know what that's suppose to mean, but in my head I imagine being kicked to death-all the while complimenting my attackers shoes. I see myself as a polite guy. Someone who doesn't like to rock the boat, but also someone who can stand up for himself if the need arises. I guess sometimes the perception you have of yourself doesn't match what others see you as.
Anyway, the thought of having to be painfully nice to strangers was on the front burner today, as I had a few errands to run. The main stop on today's schedule was to visit my local Burlington Coat Factory to buy a sports coat for work and to exchange some pants. I had been procrastination going for as long as possible, mainly because the last time I shopped there I was hit on by a muscly armed bald man who we will call Joe. Joe was helpful in choosing certain dress shirts that were stylish and would fit me well, all the while subtly commenting on how cute I was. Joe was in his late 30's, dressed nicely and had a thin strip of hair hanging from his lower lip to the bottom of his chin. He had thin but wide framed glasses that looked like something Geordi LaForge from Star Trek might wear, and the thick lisp he spoke through made it abundantly clear he was batting for the other team. I wasnt positive that Joe was hitting on me so I returned his witty banter, just trying to be friendly. It appears that I was flirting though because as I left, Joe made a vague comment on how we should go out sometime. I pretended not to hear him, and hurried from the store. Unfortunately, the $50 pants I bought were too small so I needed to return them and get new ones.
I arrived at Burlington Coat Factory around mid-afternoon. While parking, I saw an owner watching guard as his Boston terrier shat on an island of grass floating in the middle of the parking lot. I both chuckled at the pooping dog and wondered if it were the same dog that defiled my lawn everyday. As I walked across the parking lot I could feel a wave of anxiety wash over me. Reaching the entrance, it seems Joe had been waiting for me to arrive. He smiled and told me he was so happy to see me, and that he was afraid I wasnt going to come back. "My pants are too small and I need a jacket" I replied while practically jogging past him on my way to the Mens section.
The next 5 or 10 minutes went smoothly. I checked the racks for clothes that would fit me, and picked out a few articles that I thought would look good. Every few minutes I would look around to see if I was alone, and so far I had been. When I was almost ready to head to the fitting room to try on my selections, Joe popped out of a rack of jackets right in front of me. I say "popped out of" because I think he was actually hiding inside one of the racks, only to spring out like a ninja when I walked by. "Finding everything alright hun?" he asked as I fought the involuntary reaction to blush from being startled. "Uh, ye..yeah. Umm, where are your fitting rooms?" I managed to stutter as Joe smiled flirtatiously and pointed me in the direction of the changing rooms. "Let me know if you need any help" was the last thing I heard as I ran off to try on my clothes.
In the dressing room, I tried to decide what would be the least awkward way of getting out of this store. Should I just politely tell Joe that I wasnt gay? Or should I say nothing and let him think I'm interested? I realize that telling him that I'm straight would have be the best solution the first time I was at the store, but it was far too late to say something now, I reasoned. Also I hate having to turn people down. On the other hand, maybe I could be stealthy and just avoid Joe for the rest of the day and skip all of this embarrassment. The second choice seemed much easier to me at this point. "Maybe I am painfully nice", I thought as I finished trying on my clothes. I looked myself over in the mirror before I made a dash for the cash register. I looked nervous. I was sweating. "This is my life", I thought.
I opened the door to the fitting room, and Joe was waiting outside of my door.
To be continued.....
Painfully nice is a phrase I've heard describing myself from time to time. I dont really know what that's suppose to mean, but in my head I imagine being kicked to death-all the while complimenting my attackers shoes. I see myself as a polite guy. Someone who doesn't like to rock the boat, but also someone who can stand up for himself if the need arises. I guess sometimes the perception you have of yourself doesn't match what others see you as.
Anyway, the thought of having to be painfully nice to strangers was on the front burner today, as I had a few errands to run. The main stop on today's schedule was to visit my local Burlington Coat Factory to buy a sports coat for work and to exchange some pants. I had been procrastination going for as long as possible, mainly because the last time I shopped there I was hit on by a muscly armed bald man who we will call Joe. Joe was helpful in choosing certain dress shirts that were stylish and would fit me well, all the while subtly commenting on how cute I was. Joe was in his late 30's, dressed nicely and had a thin strip of hair hanging from his lower lip to the bottom of his chin. He had thin but wide framed glasses that looked like something Geordi LaForge from Star Trek might wear, and the thick lisp he spoke through made it abundantly clear he was batting for the other team. I wasnt positive that Joe was hitting on me so I returned his witty banter, just trying to be friendly. It appears that I was flirting though because as I left, Joe made a vague comment on how we should go out sometime. I pretended not to hear him, and hurried from the store. Unfortunately, the $50 pants I bought were too small so I needed to return them and get new ones.
I arrived at Burlington Coat Factory around mid-afternoon. While parking, I saw an owner watching guard as his Boston terrier shat on an island of grass floating in the middle of the parking lot. I both chuckled at the pooping dog and wondered if it were the same dog that defiled my lawn everyday. As I walked across the parking lot I could feel a wave of anxiety wash over me. Reaching the entrance, it seems Joe had been waiting for me to arrive. He smiled and told me he was so happy to see me, and that he was afraid I wasnt going to come back. "My pants are too small and I need a jacket" I replied while practically jogging past him on my way to the Mens section.
The next 5 or 10 minutes went smoothly. I checked the racks for clothes that would fit me, and picked out a few articles that I thought would look good. Every few minutes I would look around to see if I was alone, and so far I had been. When I was almost ready to head to the fitting room to try on my selections, Joe popped out of a rack of jackets right in front of me. I say "popped out of" because I think he was actually hiding inside one of the racks, only to spring out like a ninja when I walked by. "Finding everything alright hun?" he asked as I fought the involuntary reaction to blush from being startled. "Uh, ye..yeah. Umm, where are your fitting rooms?" I managed to stutter as Joe smiled flirtatiously and pointed me in the direction of the changing rooms. "Let me know if you need any help" was the last thing I heard as I ran off to try on my clothes.
In the dressing room, I tried to decide what would be the least awkward way of getting out of this store. Should I just politely tell Joe that I wasnt gay? Or should I say nothing and let him think I'm interested? I realize that telling him that I'm straight would have be the best solution the first time I was at the store, but it was far too late to say something now, I reasoned. Also I hate having to turn people down. On the other hand, maybe I could be stealthy and just avoid Joe for the rest of the day and skip all of this embarrassment. The second choice seemed much easier to me at this point. "Maybe I am painfully nice", I thought as I finished trying on my clothes. I looked myself over in the mirror before I made a dash for the cash register. I looked nervous. I was sweating. "This is my life", I thought.
I opened the door to the fitting room, and Joe was waiting outside of my door.
To be continued.....