Relying a bit too much on the kindness of strangers

Annoyance wears masks without number. The other night, the guise obscuring its leering visage was a duo of young women. They were polite and their conduct within the store was utterly appropriate, so it was not the common garden variety patron vexation one usually comes to expect.

Instead, these two ladies while in the course of being helped quietly informed me that an unknown man in the store had been watching them constantly since they came in and that it was creeping them out. Addressing these concerns is never a problem; we want people to be comfortable shopping for their preferred items of personal attention. In addition, this joker had already secured for himself a sour impression by the staff for generally being a dumb-shit at the counter. If we tell you we won't break a particular denomination of bill, rephrasing the request to provide you change for it an additional half dozen times is begging for blunt head trauma.

Consequently, his hovering next to a shelf, coincidentally providing him an unobstructed view of the women in question, and idly fingering a movie case he had yet to glance at put him resoundingly in the ranks of the unwashed stalker. I was only too obliged to approach this critter on behalf of the store.

I was not subtle in my route toward him and once I drew to within a couple yards of him, he began to pay assiduous attention to the movies arranged on the shelf before him. I wonder if anyone has ever fallen for such a feeble pretext of innocence. It wouldn't be me this night however. I told him he needed to leave immediately. He nodded and started sauntering toward the door, pausing to look at another shelf at one point. I got less polite in my demand that he remove himself from the property with alacrity. I was quite testy when I finally shuffled him out the door.

This is when the aggravation struck, for the two girls who informed me he was making them uncomfortable apparently suffered some acute embarrassment that I was confronting the big bad scary man and fled out the door. This meant that they were in the bloody parking lot at the same time as I was ejecting the meat-head. Consequently, said oaf approached the two women, who if he hadn't guessed already had mentioned having an issue with him, he did now.

This is precisely the last situation I wanted to happen. I'm suddenly in crisis mode because if an angry, offended male approaching two frightened females in the relatively private yet open environs of an adult store parking lot does not fit the criteria for FUBAR you aren't paying enough attention.

Fortunately, nothing sparked the powder-keg this time. The girls were already getting into their car when the troll was escorted out the front door and they didn't waste any time before starting the car and pulling out with a mouthed "sorry" and sheepish wave. The troll got into his own car and left a few moments later, going the other direction.

OK boys and girls, it's time for Common Sense 101 or as I like to call it, "How Not to Gift-wrap Yourself as a Victim."

• If your gut tells you that someone is bad news, you need to do something about it. Do not ignore it or act timid around them. Let them acknowledge that you see them. Call them on their bad manners. You don't want to reinforce the perception that you're prey. If you aren't comfortable with confronting them yourself and it's available, have someone in authority do it for you.
• If you ask someone to deal with the problem for you, you park your fucking ass where they tell you or out of critter's range. Do not scamper for the damned hills! Do not expect them to be able to keep track of where you're stampeding to while they're trying to control a potentially ornery critter.
• If you absolutely, positively have to run for the hills because you're such a damned rabbit, do NOT put your fluffy ass in the same place as the guy you're trying to get away from. You don't want them in the parking lot while you're still using it. You definitely don't want them in the parking lot when you step onto it.

The girls the other night were incredibly lucky. Despite authoring the absolute most likely confluence of circumstances to result in their injury and/or death, they escaped anything beyond perhaps some harsh words on the troll's part.

Stupidity should be painful. Next time, it could be terminal.