Exeunt

Customer: “Ugh. It’s the same old merchandise you always have.”

Me: “Yup.”

Customer: “Ha! I’m just fucking with you. Who’s that?”

Me: “Who’s who?”

Customer: [leaning over the counter, trying to see my phone] “Who are you talking to?”

Me: “Oh. I was looking at Facebook earlier.”

Customer: “Uh-huh. What’s your husband’s name?”

Me: “Uh…”

[Inner Me: Say Danny.]

[Other Inner Me: But Danny and I have only been dating for a couple of months. I mean, I like him a lot, but I don’t think either one of us is ready for that level of commitment.]

[Inner Me: Wow. You’re retarded.]

Me: “… Danny?”

Customer: “Relax. I’m just fucking with you.”

Me: “Ah.”

[One of the Ripcord barbacks enters.]

Barback: “Hey, may I try on these pants?”

Me: “Sure.”

Barback: “Great, thanks!”

Customer: [leering] “Mmm. Do you think he needs help with those?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “I’m just fucking with you.” [Without warning, he steps behind the counter and slides his arm around my shoulders.] “So hey there…”

Me: [evasive maneuvers] “Whoa, buddy. You’re getting a little too close.”

Customer: “Okay. I’ll leave.”

And then he walked quickly out of the store and left the bar. I almost felt bad for him, but at the same time, his prompt departure suggested that he’s crossed boundaries before, and has had to suddenly remove himself from situations when the consequences of his actions escalated. The fact that he’s aware of said consequences and still tries to cross boundaries really tells me everything I need to know about him.

But hey, at least he stopped fucking with me. Carlisle would be proud.

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