Stories: Creep - Part 2

After the first encounter with Mr. Wrinkles, months has passed by.

One day, I was walking back home from work, cautiously looking at the traffic before crossing over to the other side of the road.

Just as I made that cross, someone shouted my name ...

I looked around and yup... you guessed it. It was none other than Mr. Wrinkles himself.

He was in his car and held his arm up high. I waved my hand up and immediately continued walking in a hurried pace. It's in the middle of the road after all. You don't stand around and enthusiastically "hi" back in that kind of situation.

His "greeting" felt strange. It's like he's desperate. Trying too hard.

Mr. Wrinkles seldom appears in the cell-group gatherings. Which in my opinion, is kinda odd. For someone who projected such enthusiastic energy in greeting me, he's definitely an extrovert and it's like his destiny to appear in gatherings like that.

But, nope. He seldom appears like one of those rare pokemon.

One day, my friend fetched me back after dinner. I saw a lot of people outside my house. I was confused with the commotion for a while then, I remembered ... they just had their cell group meeting! 

I saw my house lead and greeted him. He was having a chat with Mr. Wrinkles. Mr. Wrinkles saw me and greeted me. He extended his left hand in a handshake gesture. Okay, at this point I felt strange once more. Not only that, the circumstances made me obliged to shake his hand.

First the try-too-hard greeting, now the left handshake? He sure is giving one heck of an impression. 

I extended my right hand instead which obliged him to use right hand as well. He wasn't giving me a very firm hand shake. Heck, why are shaking hands anyway. That's what business people do. 

Few weeks passed by and I was in my room fascinated with the wonders of Internet. All of a sudden, I heard a knock at my door. I looked at the door and I could see the shadow of a person standing in front of my door.

I took a deep breath ... getting ready to face the mysterious figure.

I opened the door and it turns out it to be one of the cell group members asking me if they could borrow a red pen. I claimed that my pen has no ink but that person didn't mind. I guess they need it for some sort of activity. I hope they're not using it to poke things like a cat's butt hole or something unholy like that. 

Soon, I find myself in my fantasy Internet world again.

I turned on my jam and shook my head in sync with the beat of the music. My head was literally dancing.

About an hour or so, another knock was heard. I figured that they will be returning the pen back to me. Alright ... I lifted my butt up and carried it towards the door, expecting to see that same person again but nope!

Mr. Wrinkles decided to grace me with his sudden appearance. 

I got the creepy thought that Mr. Wrinkles used that pen as an excuse to approach me.

We talked a bit. He looked right passed me to see my room. Then, he asked for my number saying that in case he wants to invite me out for dinner some time.

Smells like a typical salesman tactic.

But, given that he is someone that the house lead knows, I didn't even hesitated to give him my number.

I was like ... "today is the day I stop being a hermit and actually make a new friend!" 

After about a month, he called me out for dinner. I was having my dinner with another friend so I didn't go out with him.

After several times rejecting his invitation, he started asking probing questions like what time my office hours ends and what do I usually do after work. I told him a little bit and he arranged a time when we can really meet up which happened to be one Saturday.

Going out in a gang could be intimidating for an introvert but if it's one on one, it's like my moment to shine.

I initiated topics to talk most of the time. Talking about random things, recent events from news, food, my housemates and other interests. I was trying to pin point a topic which he could relate to and maybe eventually work my way from there.

But, nope!

My initiatives soon turned into a halt. I can't seem to find the right thing to talk about. I was thinking ... "Well, shiet, have my days of solitary finally transformed me into a dysfunctional human being?"

I felt bad and wanted to go back to my room where I can enjoy the familiarity of solitary once more.

Some other time, he asked me about my housemates and some personal questions.

I replied ... "Awkward...".

Which I think doesn't really knocked any sense into him. After a moment of silence, he looked at me as if I am obliged to respond to his interrogation. Oh, did I mention he was driving?

My heart screamed ... "could you please keep your eyes on the freakin' road?"

We arrived at a place for dinner safely, somehow. There wasn't any long chatter going on. Every chat ended quickly, giving way for awkwardness to set in.

It was then, my eyes was beaming with hope as I set my eyes upon one of the wonders of the world brought to you by science and technology ... a television. What a life saver! Now, I can pretend to be interested in that tv show that I can barely even hear what it's about because we're seated too far away and make the situation less awkward!

I stared at the tv until the food arrives.

At one point, I looked at him. He looked back at me and unnecessarily faked a smile.

I was like ...

"Why would you do that?"

"Do you want me to slap you?"

What are you trying to achieve with that fake ... oh, never mind. Weirdo.

After a while, I felt that he was looking at me. I looked back expecting him to say something. Because, that's why you would look at people. You wanted to say something...

He stared at me for about 2 seconds. I realized he wasn't going to say anything.

At that instant, I quickly broke off eye-contact. My instinct told me that this guy here could be a homosexual predator.

I continued eating my food.

Few seconds passed. From my peripherals, I could sense that he was still looking at me. Then, he turned away with a smirk as if he just won the staring competition. 

After the dinner, he drove me back home. Before we reached my home, he told me that in the next outing, he will be talking something about income replacement which is another word for insurance.
Immediately, it all clicked! 

That's why he shows no interest in any of my interesting topics that I have in my arsenal of conversation-initiation-starter pack.

I could sense a slight sour feel in my heart. I felt cheated by his insincerity to make friends.

After a few weeks, he came by to drop me the insurance policy afterwards. Once again, he, being a true icon of insolence, molested my room with his eyes.

And as I closed the door, he stared at me. I stared back in horror as I slowly closed the door shut.

It was intense.

Since then, I'd been drowning in my thoughts of negativity and finally came to a conclusion that there's no way I should allow my delicate self to be exposed to such horrid eye-contact anymore.

Because I have a small social circle and I don't really have someone that could give me proper, humane, and conforms-to-norms-of-society kind of advice, I have to make my own decision.

So, I killed him.

Just kidding. I kinda cut him off from my life. Ignored his calls, blocked whatever things that can be blocked ...

That doesn't feel like the best way. I should've been more honest to him about his creep stare and how wrong his exhaustive-application of salesman tactics made me feel. In hindsight, his action on questioning about my other housemates kinda made sense now. He wanted more people to join his "dinner".

But, I think that he would just stare back, stunned by my honesty.

So, I didn't tell him that. 


Follow us


Follow Us