After taking my cat to the vet, I wanted to get food so I stopped at Chili's (mmm, chicken fingers). Their take-out area was closed, so I had to go to the bar. (This didn't thrill me for a number of reasons, including my cat being left out in the car and my inability to see the car from the bar.) But I was hungry, so I went to the bar. It was mostly empty, just a couple of couples and one older man eating and drinking as he watched TV. I placed my order and sat down to read.
The older man, who really seemed rather drunk, paid his bill (with much effort) and came walking my way. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He came directly at me.
"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked me, once he was directly behind me.
I sort of gave him an 'Are you *serious*?' look. He nodded and grinned rather proudly, then asked me something like "Are you here to make it seem like you're a bad girl, or are you really a bad girl?".
That was too much, and I laughed at him. That didn't discourage him, so he started talking about his ex-wives. Four of them. The bartender returned, so I gave him a 'Please save me!' look. He turned and walked away. Thanks, buddy.
The semi-drunk guy went on, "You know, my first wife was a /lot/ fatter than you, and she would never wear dark colors!" (I was dressed all in black, but it was totally chance and not intent.) I peered at him, and he sort of hesitated, so I said goodbye to him and turned back to my book. I didn't really read though, sort of expecting a hand somewhere. Luckily he left. Whew.
At least the food was good.
Picture of the day:
Jecht always looks so full of life! (Or is it full of the devil?)