One more freaking time and I swear......

Okay, here's my huge freaking bitchy rant for the week.

There is a pervert in Hicksville. A dirty old man who likes to put his hand in his pocket while he's staring down your top. 

This guy creeps me out so much I break out in a cold sweat if I see him walking down the street and I am in my car, with like, a tonne of metal between me and him.

He leers, he stands WAAAAAY to close if you are ever unlucky enough to be in the same place as him, and he never takes his hand out of his fucking trackies pocket.

Normally, I manage to avoid him by being very alert, and removing myself from anywhere he happens to be, like dropping an entire shopping trolley full of groceries and doing the bolt until my favourite checkout guy comes to tell me he's gone. 

I've tried to run over him once when he was riding his freakmobile. But I missed because he swerved while staring at a woman who was walking down the street *dammit to hell*

This week I am certain he is stalking me.

I have come across him in the supermarket twice, he has been into the place I work at least once a day EVERY DAY this week, and now, just when I was starting to relax he came into my dad's shop that I was keeping an eye on while dad fixed the washing machine the bitch managed to fuck up.

He didn't even say "hello" when he came in the door, he just grinned and licked his lips. So I stayed where I was, safe behind my four foot high counter and asked him what he wanted. He wanted a price on a chainsaw, oh goody. The ones in the front window. Fuck. 

Huzzah, a handy price list happened to be in SuperGranny's in tray. No need to exit safe office area. 


So he FUCKING CAME INTO IT. And stood right next to me, and every time I stepped back he got closer. And dad has moved the "peacemaker" that was under the counter because a friendly type copper told him it probably shouldn't be in plain sight. Fuck fuck double fuck.


I seriously wish dad hadn't taken the dog home with him, because Dobermans almost always get their point across, and are quite handy at deterring dirty old men.


Anyway, he left, eventually. After I went and held the door open for him. While standing behind it so he couldn't get near me. And wishing I was capable of telling him to fuck off, but I'm too damn polite, and I was so freaked I couldn't speak properly.


If he comes near me one more fucking time I will beat him to death with a toothpick. 


And someone needs to make a law that locks up freaky creeps.


That is all.