13 04 2010

“Ok, don’t look now, but behind you, about 2 o’clock, is the creepiest guy. He is having dinner with his wife, not looking at her, but quite blatantly looking at me….and keeps staring intently at me.  I hate that. Grrrr. What a creep.”, I moaned to my friend sitting opposite me in the pub.

It was only as she casually looked over her shoulder that I realised that he was not looking at me at all, but at the football match on the screen behind me. Oops! Ok, so maybe my red top wasn’t what was attracting his attention.




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