Let me tell you about this creeper

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It’s Saturday evening. Nicole and I are out walking the streets of downtown Greenville. It’s just after dinner time and the sidewalks are packed with people, young and old, enjoying the city and the first taste of fall weather.

It was a special night for us. Nicole’s birthday was the day before, so we decided to celebrate — just the two of us — on a date night for only the third time since our newest son was born 14 months ago.

We’re strolling on the sidewalk, she’s holding onto my arm and she has her shoulder buried into my armpit because “don’t judge, it’s so warm under here.”

A few moments later, we hear a young-ish woman (maybe early twenties) behind us. A loud-talker amongst the crowd whose voice catches both of our attention.

The woman says:

“Omg, let me tell you about this creeper at work…”

“He’s 30. Divorced. Has kids.”

To be honest, I don’t remember much of what she said after that.

In my own head, I was busy checking off the boxes while she was rambling on.

✔️ Im 34

✔️ Divorced

✔️ Have kids

I look over at Nicole who’s still listening and hasn’t quite put it all together yet.

I go, “Fuck. Am I the creeper?”

She realizes that I was just described to a T. I mean, if a cop was asked to draw a guy based on this lady’s description, I’d have been a leading suspect. We both bust out laughing. Me a little less being the butt of the joke.

At any rate, this lady is gushing about how many red flags this “creeper” has, and here I am, a walking pile of those red flags, with my fiancé who loves every bit of me.

We had a great night. One that, thanks to some random lady on the street, I’ll probably remember forever.