It was just another day. I was returning from lab after a tired but productive day. As I neared my apartment building, I noticed that there was an old man standing by the main door, fiddling with his keys, but certainly not attempting to open the door. He stood a good two foot away from the door and I was skeptical of opening it and letting him in. He certainly seemed like a stranger to me because I have never seen him around before. The building management strictly advises us not to let strangers into the building. Even if inmates claim that they have forgotten their keys or locked themselves out, we are not supposed to play the good Samaritan.
Me being the over-cautious woman, I stood there for a moment or two wondering what I should do. Just then, this guy who was leaving the building left the door open for me to go in. I went in and as I had feared, this old man followed me promptly into the building, uttering a 'Thank you'. I slowed down, pretended as if I was trying to call somebody, and let him go in front of me. I checked at the building front desk and I wasn't surprised to see that the person on duty there was happily playing video games while she was supposed to be keeping an eye on people entering and leaving the building.
So I decided to take over the spying job (a lot of my friends would so totally agree with how good a detective I am. Thank you, thank you! :P). I followed this man to the elevators and saw that he did have the keys to the mail-box, which was sort of relieving. I held the elevator open for him and he entered saying, "Thank you". Now, why am I stressing on the 'Thank you'? Well, I am sure all of you must have heard Barack Obama say 'Thank you'. Remember the talk that he gave in Iraq a while ago? Oh, my goodness! He kept saying 'Thank you' 'Thank you' for a full ten minutes before the audience would stop clapping at his entry onto stage.
It was the exact same 'Thank you' with the exact same voice that my friend was saying. This old man with a graying beard, ear-muffs, a plastic bag in his hand and smelling strongly of, well, alcohol. That explained his unsteady gait and his inability to figure out which key it was that opened the main door. He entered the elevator and stood in a corner. I asked him which floor he would like to go to and when I pressed the button for him, he said the unmistakable Obama 'Thank you' again.
A moment later came the statement, "Thank you. Thank you for your heart!"
My heart?!?! What on earth?! I haven't given my heart to you yet my dear old man! :D
As I exited the elevator, he said, "Thank you! You are a beautiful woman!"
Beautiful woman?!?! No, I am not surprised that he called me beautiful - I know I am! ;) But, I couldn't help let out a small cry of anguish at the kind of men who hit on me these days, for that matter, always! Old men with unsteady gaits and that too, after I-don't-know-how-many pints of beer. Sigh! What has the world come to!
Me being the over-cautious woman, I stood there for a moment or two wondering what I should do. Just then, this guy who was leaving the building left the door open for me to go in. I went in and as I had feared, this old man followed me promptly into the building, uttering a 'Thank you'. I slowed down, pretended as if I was trying to call somebody, and let him go in front of me. I checked at the building front desk and I wasn't surprised to see that the person on duty there was happily playing video games while she was supposed to be keeping an eye on people entering and leaving the building.
So I decided to take over the spying job (a lot of my friends would so totally agree with how good a detective I am. Thank you, thank you! :P). I followed this man to the elevators and saw that he did have the keys to the mail-box, which was sort of relieving. I held the elevator open for him and he entered saying, "Thank you". Now, why am I stressing on the 'Thank you'? Well, I am sure all of you must have heard Barack Obama say 'Thank you'. Remember the talk that he gave in Iraq a while ago? Oh, my goodness! He kept saying 'Thank you' 'Thank you' for a full ten minutes before the audience would stop clapping at his entry onto stage.
It was the exact same 'Thank you' with the exact same voice that my friend was saying. This old man with a graying beard, ear-muffs, a plastic bag in his hand and smelling strongly of, well, alcohol. That explained his unsteady gait and his inability to figure out which key it was that opened the main door. He entered the elevator and stood in a corner. I asked him which floor he would like to go to and when I pressed the button for him, he said the unmistakable Obama 'Thank you' again.
A moment later came the statement, "Thank you. Thank you for your heart!"
My heart?!?! What on earth?! I haven't given my heart to you yet my dear old man! :D
As I exited the elevator, he said, "Thank you! You are a beautiful woman!"
Beautiful woman?!?! No, I am not surprised that he called me beautiful - I know I am! ;) But, I couldn't help let out a small cry of anguish at the kind of men who hit on me these days, for that matter, always! Old men with unsteady gaits and that too, after I-don't-know-how-many pints of beer. Sigh! What has the world come to!
