Brad and I went to WinCo (the place I hate the most in the world because it ate my coupon for a free candy bar) the other day. He was getting something, and I was just chillin' by our shopping cart when I was approached by an old man.
This is what went down:
Old Man: How old are you?
Me: *looks around nervously*
Old Man: How old are you? Are you twenty?
Me: *sees Brad* Um... Brad. BRAD!
Old Man: Are you twenty? Are you twenty?
Brad: Excuse me, can I help you?
Old Man: How old is she? Is she twenty?
Brad: She is nineteen. What does it matter to you?
Old Man: I just wanted to know how old she is! Are you fifteen?
(Brad & I exit the aisle by maneuvering our shopping cart away as fast as possible)
I got hit on by another old man within the span of three days. :( If you have to ask someone how old s/he is, you're probably too old to be hitting on him/her. Or anyone else really. No more creepers pleaseeee.
This is what went down:
Old Man: How old are you?
Me: *looks around nervously*
Old Man: How old are you? Are you twenty?
Me: *sees Brad* Um... Brad. BRAD!
Old Man: Are you twenty? Are you twenty?
Brad: Excuse me, can I help you?
Old Man: How old is she? Is she twenty?
Brad: She is nineteen. What does it matter to you?
Old Man: I just wanted to know how old she is! Are you fifteen?
(Brad & I exit the aisle by maneuvering our shopping cart away as fast as possible)
I got hit on by another old man within the span of three days. :( If you have to ask someone how old s/he is, you're probably too old to be hitting on him/her. Or anyone else really. No more creepers pleaseeee.
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