Spotted: Older, White Male

There’s something about a narpy* white man in his fifties that immediately terrifies me. I just saw one in the hallway of our apartment building, and I was like … yikes. All he did was smile at me and say, “How’s it going?” He’s probably just somebody’s dad.

I did recognize this man, though. I saw him a few weeks ago, again in the hallway, and I almost changed my walking path just to avoid any potential small talk. Let’s call him Hallway Man. We were both near the mail room, and I thought, “I could totally check the mail right now, but I really don’t want to.” So I didn’t. And I’m glad I didn’t because now I have this weird story I’m about to tell.

Hallway Man was a few paces in front of me, and I was like AWESOME. SURELY HE WON’T TALK TO ME. But he turned around and smiled. (Red flag no. 1.) And I smiled back. (Red flag no. 2?)

Him: “Hey, how are you?”

Me: “Good, thanks!”

Brief Intermission: Nobody talks for 10 seconds. He’s still well a ways in front of me.

Him: “All right, well, we’re going to have to walk together because I can’t have anyone walking behind me.”

Me: “OK?” * nervous smile/laugh *

Him: “Have you lived here long? I’ve never seen you.” (Red flag no. 3.) (Is it just me or is this a weird question?)

Me: “Umm, yeah, a few months.”

Him: “Oh, I’ve been here five years.”

Me: “Cool.”

Him: “So, how you liking the resort?”

Me: ~ internally — good. fucking. god. ~

Me: A lot! (I’m so fake lol.)

And then I think he said something else, but I wasn’t paying attention because my apartment door was coming up, and I was focused on pretending like I didn’t live there because I didn’t want him to know where I lived. But I’m not quick enough to lie, so I just turned to my apartment, entered, and immediately locked the door.

I guess I think most guys are serial killers or worse. A “me problem”? Perhaps. I just call it Being A Woman.

*NARP: (n) Non-Athletic Regular Person, big fuckin’ dork, person who may skew creepy