Don’t I Know U?!!!

I walked into the gas station down the road from my house to pay for some gas. As I walked in the door, a fat old man with a greasy creepy look stops what he is doing and starts to stair at me. He had this surprised yet shocked look on his face. I immediately walked over to the drinks cooler to get a drink so I could over come the discomfort I felt by the gross looking old man’s stair. I hung out at the cooler for a while (you know how the trillions of choices can make you so overwhelmed that we have to start an elimination process to make a choice.) When I bucked up the courage to deal with the only weird old man cashier I picked up the first drink in front of me and walked to the register. I put my drink on the checkout counter with a stern face--like i was going to do something if he harassed me...  He continued to glare at me with the same creepy happy yet shocked look as he rang up my drink and gas. Then while setting my drink down on the counter he said, “don’t I know you?” Ewww…Ewwww, is all I could think in my head. Right them I was wishing he had just asked for my number. That would have been way better than expressing the assumption that he knew me personally to bystanders. With a weirded out look I said, “no” in a low voice, too embarrassed to even think to myself that the worst person in the world would ask such a question. The old man continued to stair at me, only now he was in shock, like he couldn’t believe I didn’t remember him. I quickly took my drink and left, disgusted and ashamed that my husband who was with me at the time, now thinks this weird old man knows me, but I might be to ashamed to admit it. All I was thinking in my head was: where does this woman he is mistaken me for works? Maybe at some strip club.I could see him falling for some Candy. The more I think about it the more furious I become. The desperate look on his face made me ask myself: Could she be a hooker who preformed services for him, but he developed feelings for her so she stopped servicing him? I later visited the store and he had the last look I saw when I told him my name was not Candy.

The irony here is not everyone is good with face recognition. And your spouse may not find it funny that some weird guy thinks he knows you even if he is wrong. How do I convince my husband that this man’s plea to recognize me is a mistake. I mean, do I look like a Candy or what even these street walkers are calling themselves these days. I still buoy cut that store because that many still haven’t lost that desperate look that makes me wonder if I should consider plastic surgery to change my appearance.