Sometimes I attract creepers

A few weeks ago, I was taking advantage of Panera's free wi-fi and minding my own business, when I spotted him out of the corner of my eye.

The Creeper.

You know how sometimes you feel like someone is staring at you because of the way their face looks in your peripheral vision and then you look up and realize they're actually staring at something behind you? Well, this was not one of those times.

I feel a pony-tailed, cowboy-shirt wearing man's eyes boring into my face. So of course, I tell myself, "There must be an interesting, commercially manufactured excuse for art behind my head that he really likes," and go about my business. However, minutes wear on and Pony-tail's gaze has not lifted.

Luckily, my battery starts to die, so I had to shift across the aisle to sit in a booth with an outlet. I am immediately relieved when I realize I'm finally out of Pony-tail's line of vision.

However, when Pony-tail moved to a booth putting me within his line of vision, I realized my worst fears: Pony-tail was actually the Creeper.

I look up again to verify my realization. And yes, there he was staring at my face like I was some commercially manufactured excuse for art that he found interesting.

I consider picking up the phone to talk to my pretend boyfriend, but I can't think of anything interesting to say to my pretend boyfriend, so I just sit there and glare at my computer screen.

All my fears come to a paramount when Creeper stands up and begins to walk towards me. Luckily, I've had time to slip my ring over to my left hand, but it's not enough. He stands in front of me until I take out my earbuds and look up.

"Pardon me, but are you waiting for someone?"

"Yes, my hunky body-building boyfriend just got finished skinning a hefty 10-point buck and is on his way over to shower me with roses and love ballads," I should have said.

Instead, I smile and say, "No," and put my earbuds in and go back to glaring at my computer screen.

Now I know how that M&M and his Pretzel friend felt.