Creepers be Creepin'

Over the years, I've learned that being a girl can be quite an issue. I'm not talking about heels, periods, childbirth and hair straighteners. I'm talking about the large population of creepy people out there. Creepy guys, to be exact. Maybe even creepy old guys. And these creepy guys tend to gravitate to me.

Being only about 5'1 and skinny as a noodle, I can understand that I might be viewed as an easy target. But what the creepers don't know is that I'm not entirely an idiot. Nor am I a particularly slow runner.
Many a-time, I've had to encounter said creepers. Here are a few instances.
I'd have to say that the least creepy/serious experience was simply when I was walking down the sidewalk and a shabby red car pulls up across the street. Some Mexican guy I didn't know popped out the window asking me if I needed a ride home. I said no thanks and quickened my pace. The end.

The next story took place in my own neighborhood. My brother and I were walking down the street, coming home from the neighborhood pool. All of a sudden, I heard a car behind us and ignored it. The sound of the car followed us down the street but failed to pass. Finally, I turned around to see. it was a big green and white RV. Creepy enough on its own, right? Well, the guy behind the wheel maxed out the creep factor by hunching over the wheel, wide-eyed and staring right at us, showing no shame when he was caught. I got the attention of my brother and quickly suggested we make a run for it as we came to the corner. We did just that. Creeper RV sped down the street the opposite way. Realizing he wasn't coming after us just today, we slowed. He was still in view down the street and he slowed too. So we ran again. He followed suit and made a break for the neighborhood exit. Creeper...

Creeper award of the year goes to That Guy In The Furniture Store. When I was about 8 maybe, my mom, brother and I were at some furniture store because my mom was buying a dresser. While she was over at the desk, my brother and I decided to explore. We were jumping on beds or something when this guy came over to us, pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. He started chatting with us and, being 8 and 6 years old, me and my brother didn't know any better than to talk with the man. Then the man says "Y'know... I'm Justin Timberlakes manager."

We had no idea who he was talking about. So he started singing "I'm bringing sexy back. You motherfuckers don't know how to act." Aside from the fact that the man had just said the "F-word," my brother and I weren't very impressed until he started telling us that we could have a ride in his limo and get backstage passes to meet the star at a concert etc etc. Oblivious to his creep, we told the supposed superstars manager that we'd have to ask our mom. We pointed her out and watched the man walk over to her and greet her by putting his arm around her. A few minutes later, my mom half-ran over to us, scooped us up and we drove away like there was no tomorrow. Later that day, we got a very late don't-talk-to-strangers speech.

I have more stories, a short one, even, about a cannibal. But this post is getting long enough. Anyways, all of this just goes to show that I am a complete creeper magnet.