So I go to this place this morning to interview someone. I park. On the way out, I decide to buy a magazine, some sticky syrup-drenched confectionary and a coke. I get into my car. Turn to the left as I bite into the sticky mess, as it drips all over my Stepford Wives skirt and balk.
Shit. I duck down, as my friend's on and off ex-husband is parked right next to me. He seems a nice enough guy, but has really screwed over the said friend. So I'm leaning, all but under my steering wheel, with syrup and coke all over my face and clothes, waiting for him to reverse out and drive away. Has he seen me? I don't know. I flip my sunglasses over my face. He's casually sipping on a drink in his car too. I have no choice but to sit there for...20 excruciating minutes as I chomp the rest of the thing under my dashboard. He's still there. I whip up (how suspiscious does that look?) wrench the gears into reverse, looking only out the right side of my window (because he's at the left) and high tail it out of there.
Maybe I just should've waved nonchalantly like normal people do, instead of behaving like a crazy person. I mean, he WOULD HAVE seen me anyway.
("Uh (name), I saw (Peas on Toast) at (place.) She was being very wierd..hiding under her seat in the car, eating some gooey thing.")