I was standing in line at the supermarket and there was a man standing VERY close to me. I moved up a few inches and then he followed me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring at my left upper arm. I moved, he moved. I've had 2 stalkers in this neighborhood, one was 16 and one was in this forties and used to stand in line backwards so he could stare at me. It's possible I was naked.
But this new stalker was clearing staring and deciding whether to slap the snake, the tarantula or the swine flu off my arm.
"Excuse me sir, is there something on my arm?"
"Is it a bug?"
"No, it's a weird tattoo."
"I don't have any tattoos. I'm from a good family."
"Well, you got one now."
"Then a woman took out a mirror to SHOW me the tattoo I don't have."
"Ohhhhh, that's a burn." He said.
"A burn in the shape of a belt buckle?" The woman said.
"Don't belts go around the waist?" I asked.
"So you put a belt around your arm and got a TATTOO?" The woman was clearly afraid of me."
"That's a first degree burn." Stalkerwannabedoctor said.
"How do you know that?"
"How long have you had it?"
"I don't know, more than a week."
"Did you put anything on it?"
"You mean like butter?
"Welcome to your first tattoo."
When I finally saw it at my house, I realized I got it from my seat belt. I guess I need classes on how to put a seat belt on in 200 degree heat.
I went to El Shrinko de Mayo yesterday and as I was going in one door, an overweight black guy in the the music business was coming out of the door next to my shrinks.
"How you doin'?" he smiled.
"I'm doin' great, how about you?"
"I'm doing great too."
"I'm lying." I responded.
"Yeah, me too," he laughed.
End of chat.