It all started when I squeezed myself in between a young girl and a man. I complimented the girl on her purse (which had a picture of a pug on it), because I liked it and so that she would move over so that I could go to work on my coffee creation. Then the guy (on my right) nudged me like I was an old friend. I turned to him and he said, "Look at her shoes, too, she looks like a Hobitt." I thought maybe she knew him, but as she and I glanced at each other we realized that neither of us knew him, and that he had just dampened our happy girly exchange with his odd social graces. Suddenly, we were both faced with the fear of his impending weirdness. I really don't know what to do with people like this except to plaster a polite frozen smile on my face and make eye contact with anyone else around that communicates, "What social reform policy would keep this guy on his meds?" It's not that his comment was harmful, it's more the fear of where the interaction would lead. I suppose he needs love like every other lost soul trying to get a caffeine rush and desperate for some female human contact, but I've had too many experiences where even the slightest kindness displayed turns me into a stray dog magnet. So, I blessed him in my head, and beat the hell out of there.

Just for today, I can let go of my fear of the weirdos at the condiments counter.