Anyway, I had to give up my awesome parking space and drive myself to Walgreens to pick up some essentials: Tylenol, DayQuil, toilet paper, Diet Coke and Top Ramen. I also treated myself to some $7.99 Rembrant toothpaste.
Now this Walgreens is the Walgreens where I've seen both the dented head man, a fella with a good 1/3rd of his skull dented inward who asks for money at the front door AND a dude shooting heroin in between his toes in the parking lot. This Walgreens employs a security guard who does nothing but stand at the door and watch people struggle with their baskets. That's it. So you can imagine my surprise when today, this guard who, I'm not exaggerating here, works at the most ghetto Walgreens in the world, starts following me around.
Granted, I kinda look like that mug shot of Nick Nolte. But I can't imagine I'd garner that much suspicion.
Aisle to aisle, this guy was definitely tailing me. I was one of three or four customers in that whole ghetto place and perhaps I'm biased, but I was probably the only one that hasn't done any time. Unless you count rehab. If I were workin' security and lookin' to nab a shop lifter, I wouldn't have pegged me. I'd probably keep my eyes on the middle-aged man in the cereal section actually sitting on the floor agonizing over his choices.
This security guard was always 3 feet away and staring directly at me, to the point where our proximity could no longer be ignored. But quite frankly, I was way too embarrassed to say anything. This guy thought I was thief! So I just turned to face him and stared back.
It was like the staring contests my brother and I used to have out of sheer boredom. This dude and I locked eyes like we were in a Western. A tumbleweed should've rolled by, the other Walgreens customers hiding behind the Easter Peeps display wondering who'd go for their gun first.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of intense, serious, intimate eye-sex, the security guard just turned around and walked away. I stood in the middle of the aisle dumbfounded. I wanted to throw my hands in the air and scream, "What's the problem, guy?"
I have no punchline to this tale. That's it. I paid for my shit and left. I have no idea why this guy was following me, why I was forced into a stare-off and why he never said a word. But what I do know is that if I'm the one stirring suspicion at the 24th and Potrero Walgreens, I'm sicker than I thought...