I'm next to this guy. He is fidgety. He has greasy brown hair, and a patchy beard. He is wearing a blue shirt, and khaki cargo pants. We are both in line at the bank. He keeps leaning on one foot, and then the other. Almost hopping back and forth. He is holding his wallet in his hand, his fingers keep rubbing it. He is a fly person, a grubby creepy fly person.
He is staring at me. Well, he keeps staring at me then looking away. Under the cover of his limp shaggy hair his eyes keep finding their way back to me. A few times our eyes meet, and his mouth starts to say something. He stops though, thankfully. This happens three times.
I know what is happening, he thinks he knows me but is not sure. Sure, there is a chance I have met Fly Man before, but even if I have I certainly don't want to talk to him, that sounds terrible. I don't want to talk to normal not insect people, but he keeps looking at me. Then he does it, he says hello.
I nod and look at my deposit slip. He continues, "Anyone ever told you you look like Bill Hader?" I nod and look back at my deposit slip.
Man.
He is staring at me. Well, he keeps staring at me then looking away. Under the cover of his limp shaggy hair his eyes keep finding their way back to me. A few times our eyes meet, and his mouth starts to say something. He stops though, thankfully. This happens three times.
I know what is happening, he thinks he knows me but is not sure. Sure, there is a chance I have met Fly Man before, but even if I have I certainly don't want to talk to him, that sounds terrible. I don't want to talk to normal not insect people, but he keeps looking at me. Then he does it, he says hello.
I nod and look at my deposit slip. He continues, "Anyone ever told you you look like Bill Hader?" I nod and look back at my deposit slip.
Man.
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