He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Tonight Jess and I went to a Chinese restaurant in Piccadilly Circus. All you can eat for 4 pounds. The food was so-so but the highlight of the evening came when I got hit on by the creeper sitting next to us. The way the place was set up consisted of a downstairs, where the food was, and an upstairs which provided additional seating. Jess and I were seated upstairs and the only available seating was where they had this two, two-person table seated together to make one, four-person table. They separated the tables to make Jess and I seats, which provided about three inches between our table and the table next to us, aka the Creeper table.

He started out all suave asking for the time, then apparently saw that as an opening to a conversation. And now I shall share it with you. My colorful commentary is in italics.

Creeper: “I’m sorry do you have the time?”

Me: “Yea, its…” -digs in purse for phone- “6:03.”

Creeper: “Thanks. So where are you from?”

Me: -yes, he really used that line- “America.”

Creeper: “Oh ok. What part?”

Me: “Uh Florida.”

Creeper: “I have an aunt who lives in Minnesota.” -highly doubtful-

Me: “Oh nice.”

Creeper: “So what’s your name?”

Me: “mmm Laura.”

Creeper: -to his friend- “Laurie.”

Me: “Um ok, sure.”

Creeper: “That’s a beautiful name.”

Me: “Oh, thanks.”

Creeper: “So what are you doing after dinner?”

Me: “Oh my friend and I are going to look at the Christmas lights.”

Creeper: –to his friend- “Can we go look at the Christmas lights?”

Creeper’s Friend: “No I have to go home.”

Creeper: “Ah, okay.”

Creeper’s Friend: “So you from America?” -haven’t we been over this?-

Me: “Uh, yes.”

-By this point Jess has returned from downstairs, where the food is. Now she takes over watching the purses and I go get my food. I return and turns out they have not said a single word to her.-

Creeper’s Friend: “So you here on holiday?”

Me: “No, were in uni.”

Creeper: “Oh what school do you go to?”

Me: “Richmond.”

Creeper: “Ah ok. So what are you doing tomorrow?”

Me: -looking to Jessica, sending her a pleading look to agree with whatever I say. She gets it because she is awesome- “Oh, don’t we have that guest lecture?” -yes, I am well aware that tomorrow IS a Sunday.-

Jess: “Yea, I totally forgot about that.”

Me: “It was the only day our professor could get him to come speak…”

Creeper: “Can we come?”

Me: “Oh… yea, I’m afraid it’s only for students. For our class. For our univeristy.”

Creeper: “Ah, okay. So where do you sleep?”

Me: -completely freaked out- “I beg your pardon?”

Creeper: “Where do you sleep? You know, stay?”

Me: “Oh. In Richmond.” -ha! we live in Kensington!- “Where we go to school. In Richmond. We are just in town for the day.” -you could say I was totally freaked out and not at all enjoying, or eating for that matter, my food.-

Creeper: “Okay. That’s a lovely jumper you have on.” -for those of you who do not know, a jumper is a sweater.-

Me: “Oh, thank you.”

Creeper: “You really are beautiful. You ladies are so beautiful.”

Me and Jess: “Oh, thanks.”

At this point the conversation dies down enough for me to jump in and start talking to Jessica about when our boyfriends are coming into town and how long they will be staying, and things of that nature. It worked because Creeper and his friend totally left us alone after that. About eight minutes later we got up, payed the bill and literally ran away from the horrid place.

Needless to say I didn’t really enjoy dinner. And now I am so so very hungry. And I shall go and watch Harry Potter. And fall asleep before my drunken roommate returns from her adventures.

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7 Comments

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7 responses to “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

  1. Hey, I at least applaud the guy for trying. Granted I don’t know how often this happens to you, but since girls don’t have any social obligation to take the initiative hardly ever, it’s a bitch of a responsibility to carry. Coming up with something clever and interesting is difficult to work up the effort for when every guy’s fear is that it will end up exactly how you lied.

    This guy tried at least. So good for him.

    But this seems like a pretty awful setting to try in. Maybe he should’ve bought you some alcohol. God knows that would’ve worked.

  2. improbablefiction

    ha. ha. ha. give me alcohol and I’m one wild and crazy girl.

    I mean, yea I know it takes courage, I really do give the guy credit for trying, and we were sort of doing fine (not counting the fact I gave him a fake name…) up until he asked me where I slept. After that it was “get me the hell out of here” because that sort of thing creeps me out.

    I’m just saying, when you hit on a girl, I’d wait until a little later in the conversation to ask her where she sleeps. At least make sure she is interested first. Or completely plastered.

    And I know this will probably sound completely cliche, but there was nothing about him that would ever be considered ‘my type.’ Now you probably don’t know this about me, but when it comes to “types” I am not really picky at all. Girls who say they want this or that and so on are waay to closed minded, in my opinion. I have lots of options to choose from. But when we sat down I got this extremely weird vibe, it was kind of a green light to give him a fake name.

    I’ve been hit on plenty of times before, in the movie theater, in Walmart, in a book store, etc. and besides the Walmart incident, none of them were as creepy as this one.

  3. Very good point on the where do you sleep thing. That’s especially atrocious wording to begin with, but I don’t think I’d EVER ever ask a girl where she lived unless like an hour of otherwise pleasant conversation had passed and it seemed like important information to know.

    Random side question: Why the hell are midwestern states the only ones British guys seem to know? Didn’t the guy in Love Actually go to Wisconsin or something? Seriously, I live in America and the closest thing I can think of that’s remotely interesting in that entire region is the Mall of America. And gigantic or not, that’s still just a mall.

  4. improbablefiction

    “Just a mall”??!?!!?? Do you know who you are talking to Caleb? Nothing is ever “just a mall” to me. I mean, when I get bored I go to the mall and just walk around- for fun. Don’t even have to buy anything. Just being there makes me happy. And believe me, the mall in Bear Delaware leaves a lot to be desired.

    “Just a mall.” That’s crazy talk.

    But yes. The guy did go to Wisconsin. The writer actually didn’t know that it was such a loser town; he thought it was a happening place. Why? The world may never know.

  5. Haha, yeah, I remember him saying that in the commentary. I guess America is just SO awesome that everyone assumes every single piece of it is equally amazing. If only that were so.

    I stand by my “just a mall” stance. I go to the mall at Christmas time, but that’s about it. It’s just not a fun place. That goes for all shopping centers with exception of any stores that sell DVD’s.

  6. improbablefiction

    If I was only allowed to go to the mall at Christmas, I would probably die.

  7. Well, it’s not like the mall put some ban on me that forbids from going at any other time. I just choose not to. That’s why America rules.

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