So as I type, Stalker #2 (Apartment Worker Stalker), is painting lines in the parking lot just outside my window. I know because I was just forced to have yet another stilted conversations with him as I encountered him when I returned from walking the dog. And I had just been thinking how nice it was that I managed the walk without running into him.
So he starts with the weather, moves to "When my boss asked me to come down here to do this, I said 'Sure. I'm good at doing lines.' It's a good thing he didn't catch my meaning." And he finishes with talk of the Colorado Rockies and how well they're playing. (He used to live in Colorado. He told me this during the last conversation...you remember, the one in which he played air guitar.)
Seriously where do these people come from?
I am glad for one thing, though. I've been griping about that parking lot needing lines drawn because it's circular and no one knows how to park out there. A LOT of wasted space! I just wish one of the other guys were out there doing it.
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