The creepiest thing happened at work last Friday.
Looking back, it’s pretty funny - in one of those creepy kind of ways - but at the time it was one of those “Fuck this shit, I’m outta here!” kind of moments.
So as I’ve mentioned before, I work an office job at a major bookstore. To get to the break room (and my office) you have to walk alongside the store’s cafe towards the rear of the store.
Last Friday as I was making this walk, I noticed this guy (late 20s/early 30s, Caucasian, kinda sleazy looking with short blond hair) sitting at the table right next to the break room door. As I approached the door, I noticed he had been eyeballing me as I made my way over.
I didn’t think much about it at the time other than, “Okay, creeper. You can stop staring now.”
Well right as I get to the door and begin to punch in my pass code, I hear this voice go, "Hey. Hey you."
I look over and it’s Sleazy Guy.
"You a writer?"
I kinda look at him with that deer in the headlights look before I reply, "Yes."
"What do you write? You write books?"
"Mainly short stories," I answered, wondering where the hell this was going. "Sometimes screenplays and plays."
"You ever have anything published?"
"But you’re aiming for the stars right? Looking to make it big?"
Right as he said that, I got this really weird chill. You know the one I’m talking about where it feels like someone is running a cold finger down your spine.
Right then I thought to myself, “GET AWAY. NOW.”
As if he had read my mind, he smiled this creepy smile at me and said, "I’ve got just the story for you." He then leaned back in his chair and said in this creepy voice, "How would you like to make a deal?"
It was at this moment that I said to myself, “I’m outta here”, and quickly excused myself into the break room.
It wasn’t until later when I really began to process the interaction that I began to wonder why he had singled me out of everyone else there and more importantly…how he had known I was a writer.
Though it’s a little funny to look back on, part of me wonders if I may have met the Devil himself, offering me fame and fortune in exchange for something else…
I mean, can you get any more cliche than…
"How would you like to make a deal?