I waitressed at the Ground Round the summer I turned 20, and I was damn good at it.

One day, I was working a double shift, and as I walked through the super cool lounge area (read: smoking section), I saw this creepy guy sitting alone in the back laughing to himself. Dude was weird. He was there for hours and, at one point, I saw one of the waiters, who I thought was cute and, more importantly, sane, sitting and talking to him. I approached Doug in the kitchen, and he said that was his cousin.

Next day, I’m talking to Doug’s girlfriend, who also worked at the Ground Round, and she’s all like, “I heard you think Doug’s cousin is hot.” I’m all like, “Not hot. CREEPY.” She was like, “Well, we hate his girlfriend because she’s 18 and has a curfew so we’re like totally going to set you two up.” And I was like, “ew!” (Yes, we really talked like this.)

A couple of weeks later, we went for after work drinks at the bar that served minors and the cousin met us there. He was quiet and distraught over a fight with his girlfriend, and we barely spoke. Which is why I was so shocked the next time we met, when he was completely drunk off his ass and hitting on me. He knocked a Long Island ice tea in his lap and I, as the only sober person there, offered to drive him home to change. He insisted I knocked the drink on him and was trying to get him out of his pants. (W-T-F?!) He expressed his undying love for me and some concern over how he would find me again. (um, I work with your cousin dumb ass.) And when I left for the night, he swore someday I would be his.

Over the next few weeks, we actually became friends, always hanging out with Doug, his girlfriend, and at least 15 of my other coworkers, until the night he kissed me in my car, and I said I couldn’t see him anymore. The next day when he came to the Ground Round to see me, I told him to go home to his girlfriend, and it was then he told me he had broken up with her for me. I went in the back and hyperventilated. Did I really want to date a guy that would dump his girlfriend for a girl he barely knew? (The other issue was I was actually seeing another guy and cheating on him with my ex-boyfriend. It was kind-of a crazy summer for me.)

Eleven years later, I’m so glad I dumped those other guys for him because today we’ve been married for 7 years.

(Though I still stand by my initial statements that he was CREEPY (but also cute) and that he knocked that drink over himself. And if I did take him home to change his pants, I would have brought at least two other people for protection.)

–This post was not submitted, but posted on another site…I thought it was worth reading =D–

Stupid me decided to go hang out around the street cuz there is this guy I like, so I kinda wanted to see his house.

Anyway, this like homeless drunk bum came up and started talking to me. He seemed nice at first, I was being nice to him and we were talking and joking and all — I mean he was total bum though, had a cane, a bag with shitty beer in it, and a black eye.  I’m not a rude person, so it wasn’t like I was gonna tell him to go away and leave me alone, but I didn’t want to tell him I was going home either or then he’d follow me and know where i live.

So, I told him I was going to this bar (which is actually in the same parking lot as my apt.) and apologize to the owner who kicked me out last time for being a bitch at last call (I insisted on getting more beer and was being a bitch lol) — so I figured, this guy probably doesn’t want to go to an actual bar since he has his own pack of beer, but no — he said he wanted to go with me. FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!! I mean I can’t tell him he can’t go to a public place! so I’m like “um, yeah I guess….” so he walked with me over there, and I told him I wanted to wait outside for the owner cuz I knew he comes out to smoke, and I would talk to him then and apologize.  So we’re waiting, and I’m thinking how the hell am I gonna get home now? If he sees me walk to my house, he’ll know where I live.  The bar was actually about to close, so these people come out that I know from being in there and i told the bum I’d be right back.  Then he stood behind a VAN and HID from the people! WTF! so i go over to the people i know and whisper to them that I need help, I need to get away from that guy and he won’t leave, and i want to go home but he can’t see where I live!

Well one of the guys i was standing with walked over toward the bum (I guess to make sure i wasn’t lying) and then started saying shit about it, about who’s the creepy dude hiding behind the car…a few minutes later we’re all standing together and the bum comes walking out and past us, he either got scared of the guy i was with or realized that i was just trying to get away from him. so he walked by and left, and we all stood around for a minute then they walked me to my house (which is right in the parking lot as the bar) AND NOW I’M SAFE, I HOPE.

I hope he didn’t see where we went, we didn’t see him around after that so hopefully he doesn’t know where i live.

That’ll teach me to go out standing around the streets at 12:30am by myself…

–submitted by all-by-myself–

I was on the 7 train this morning and then they announced on the train that it was going to turn around. Then this hippie-ish dude came up to me and started asking me details about what was being announced. He told me to look at a map with him and he was babbling on. We got to 45th road to switch and he was babbling more, guessing what kind of music I listen to, then talking about Woodstock and getting high.

We were going the same direction I guess, when I got off on 53rd street, he asked for my number and I said I don’t give it out. And he asked me if I was seeing someone and I said yes – that I moved out here with him. He then asked if I lived with him, like “duh, yeah…” I moved here for him.

Then he’s like:

“Ohhh you like the big firefighter guys (my boyfriend is a firefighter) because then you can feel protected…”

“I’m just like, well, we were together b4 he was a firefighter, and so I wasn’t w/ him cuz of that”

Then he asked if I had ever given my number out to a guy…just a bunch of dumb questions, then he had to get on another train and I was exiting the station.  So he is like, promise me you will email me (for the 5th time asking) and I said I’d think about it and then he hugged me –eww…and he was like 40, really, maybe 45…

Really.

Did he really think he had a chance?

–submitted by creeped-out-and-harassed-on-the-train–

I usually bartend at a bar once a week in the upper east side.   There was this one night where this guy would NOT stop staring at me.  I asked him if he needed anything..and he just said:

“I’m sorry, I just can’t stop staring at you…you look like Grace Kelly  – (in case you didn’t know she’s an actress from the 50s) – Me, thinking to myself, has no idea how I would even look like her even from a side profile.

He then proceeds to whip out his phone and show pictures of her, which I thought was weird.

But what really surprised me was when he gave me a napkin that said:

“Invitation to Brunch – but only if Grace Kelly makes an appearance”

And his number right below that.

Which I thought was a pretty creative approach – he wasn’t annoying so I didn’t bother telling him I had a boyfriend (of course I had no intention of ever calling him, but I just wanted to humor him)

I swear – guys are becoming more and more creative in the pick-up department.

–submitted by G.K–

I go to Au Bon Pain by my job around the same time each day to get my cup o’ tea.

On one of those days while I was fixing my tea one of the workers was standing by me. I figured he needed to grab the hot water thing to refill it etc., or clean up the area. I hurried up and was grabbing a lid by where he was standing, and he started talking and said, “um..”. I quickly answered, “Oh, I’ll be out of your way in a second.”

About this time I’m trying to go as fast as I can, and I’m about to leave when he says, “Uh, what uh, nationality are you?” OK, I was caught totally off guard, so I was like, “Huh?! What?!”. He repeated his question, and I said, “Oh, sorry I didn’t hear you. I’m 1/2 Japanese.” I figured that would do it and was trying to go on my merry way… “Wow… What’s the other 1/2?”… Here I am thinking to myself, “Darn, why did I have to say “1/2″…” I told him my father was white, and he then said, “Damn! Your two races need to get together again and make more of you! You are really beautiful…”

I quickly said “thanks” and could not stop laughing – not so much because I was flattered because I personally think I’m normal looking and obviously every guy is “testosterone-al” – but I found what he said to be outright HILARIOUS. I think I laughed in his face too… But come on now… who wouldn’t keep laughing at that line… Classic… LOL!

–submitted by MP-

There’s a B&N store in my work building, which is usually awesome cuz I can drop by before work or during lunch. Even more awesome cuz I can cut through the street entrance to the building entrance. I used to do it all the time. Used to.

Then the B&N security guard started getting really friendly. It started off with a bland good morning, then a hi, then asking about my weekend. All normal stuff like any other acquaintance conversation, and I thought he was an ok guy. Then he started going out of his way to see me. If I’m wearing a hat, he’ll duck to see my face and catch my attention. Or he’ll see me from down the hall and wave hi. A little creepy, but I thought he was just being friendly and over eager.

Then one day on my way to lunch he saw me and asked if I would pass back that way. I said yes. When I came back he was cornered me (as much as you could corner someone next to a table of books) and said “I didn’t see you for a while.”
“Yeah, you know, sometimes I’m late to work and don’t get to pass through.”
“Yeah, I didn’t see you for a while and got worried so can I get your number?”

Wait. What?!

“Uhh, no,” I said, starting to edge away.
“Oh ok, that’s too bad. You’re taken?” A glance down at my left hand, which, thankfully, I had on a silver ring on my middle finger that could be been mistaken as a wedding band.
“Um, yeah.” I edged away and made my excuses. So much for being nice to a security guard.

Since then, I’ve been a chicken. I just don’t like the awkwardness. I now scout from down the hall to see what entrance he’s standing at. If i absolutely have to go inside, I whip out my phone and made like I’m looking for someone in a hurry. It sucks because the entrance is right in front of the only stairway down from the second floor. So, I became a more frequent customer of Borders and the other B&N that are at least 12 blocks away from work. Good thing I like walking.

So, after a couple months of successfully avoiding him and not seeing him at his usual post, i thought it was safe to browse the area near the entrance again. Not. As I looked at greeting cards, someone said hi to me. Crap. He stood guard in a totally different area than before. So we exchanged niceties and I went on my way to the register. When I left, there he was, at the back entrance as he used to, ready to say bye to me with a smile on his face. Creepy.

He’s still there sometimes. And I still avoid him.

–submitted by The Chicken–

My favorite story is a guy who picked me up, then when I refused to go home and have sex with him after the bar closed, he demanded I reimburse him for the drinks he had bought me.

Haha.

Sucker.

–submitted by kwh–

At least I think he was gay.

There are certain things that heterosexual males shouldn’t say to other hetero males. And he definitely crossed that line.

Flashback to this morning: I was jumping rope toward the end of my workout when this dude approached me and started talking.

I had my iPod on so I couldn’t hear him. I took them off and he repeated himself.

Suspect dude: Have you ever done any modeling?

Me: Nah. I haven’t.

He then tells me that he has a show coming up next weekend and that he’d like me to be in it.

I’m skeptical, but I ask him to elaborate.

SD: I’m XXXXXX. What’s your name, man?

I tell him my name and he continues.

“I’m having this show next weekend. It’s for males and females. We’re doing a cowboy-themed show, showing a lot of skin. I want the guys to wear cowboy boots…”

Did dude just say, “cowboy boots”? C’mon, dog.

All I could picture were dudes walking across a stage in leather chaps, cowboy boots, and cowboy hats…and nothing else!

I cut him off after cowboy boots.

“I can’t do THAT kind of modeling, man.”

SD (sensing that I’m becoming skeptical): Nah, man. The women are gonna be wearing the same stuff. Showing a lot of skin. It’s gonna be more erotic than my usual shows. A lot of skin…cowboy boots.

I tell him again that I’m not down for that.

SD: You have the body for it (he says as he looks at my chest). You just don’t have the mind for it yet (as he points to his temple).

I don’t have anything for that shyt, mutherfukker! LOL.

At that moment right there, I decided it was time to get this dude the hell away from me. I wish I were mean so I could tell him to get the fukk out off my face with that bullshyt. Instead I tell him that I’ll take his card and call him if I want to do some of his “other” shows.

A few minutes later, he gave me his card and bounced.

Stuff like this only happens to me. I swear.

–submitted by V.D–

I bullshyt you not.

So I’m riding the Green Line train to work—like I do every morning. While the ride home after work can be kinda wild at times, the ride to work is usually pretty chill.  Most of the time I have a seat to myself and I can kick back and read the daily Redeye newspaper to catch up on current events (Ted Kennedy formally endorsed Barack Obama, Bush gave his LAST State of the Union address [thank God!], and how Britney has “mental issues“).

After I finished today’s paper, I got into my book, Rules of the Game. As my stop approaches, I toss the book in my bag and put my on coat (it was hot as hell on that train).

When it stops at the Randolph Street station—the one right before my exit—this crazy-lookin’ dude gets on. I’ve seen this muhfukka previously.  Maybe once or twice before.  He’s older.  If I had to guess, I’d say he was in his late-30s to early-40s.  He’s kinda bummy.  His clothes are worn down.  He’s flabby, not in shape at all. A little shorter than me.  He looks like a cracked-out black version of Doc Brown from the Back to the Future movies.  Dude usually gets on the train and stares at me.

Lookin’ all crazy and shyt.  Like he wants to say something.  It really creeps me the fukk out.  Today was no different.There are a bunch of empty seats on the train, but dude conveniently chooses to sit in the seat directly in front of me—like a foot away.

“How you doin’?” he says with that crazy look in his eyes.  I nod my head. Dog, it’s completely awkward. Thank God the next stop is mine. I adjust my trench coat and put on my Zune headphones as I get up and walk toward the door—and away from dude.  But out of the corner of my eye, I see him standing up.  He’s approaching me—again.  This time he reaches in his pocket for something.

Awww lawd! Why me, dog? He pulls out a balled-up piece of paper and hands it to me.  I unravel it only to have my worst fears confirmed.Not only is it his name and number—but he put his address on that muhfukka too. On an old Illinois lottery ticket.What THEE fukk!!!!!  At this point I’m completely taken out of my game. I have no idea how to handle the situation. I know the few people on the train have to be looking at us.

Probably laughing. I’m embarrassed.  I can’t look dude (his name is Will; he lives on the south side) in the face.

All I want to do is get the hell off the train, go to work, and proofread some medical ads. Is that too much to ask?

As the train pulls into the station, I finally get the nerve to look Will in the face.  He’s looking right back at me—with the craziest smirk on his face. He nods his head approvingly as if he’s saying, “Call me, dog.” When the doors open, I take the humbling walk of shame off of the train.In the aftermath of this horrific event, a couple questions came to mind: Why did Will have his name, phone number, and address already written out? Did he intend to give it to the next dude he wanted to bone? Or did he have it saved specifically for me—hoping he’d run into me on the train again?

When I got to work I showed a couple of my co-workers. The first thing they asked me: Why did you take the number?That’s a valid question. I didn’t have to take it.  I could have just stole on his punk ass when I figured out what he was up to.  Or I could have cussed him the fukk out for disrespecting me.  Or I could have simply asked him why he thought I was a homosexual.  But I ain’t do none of that.  I guess I was too scared to take a stand.

Now I have to adjust my train schedule in the morning so I don’t run into that muhfukka again.‘Cause I shudder to think what’ll happen if I see Will again.

–Submitted by vondarrien–

I was taking the E train late one night with a female friend of mine. We were
talking pretty loud since the trains are noisy. We were talking, laughing, acting
silly, and having a great time.

Then, a man around his 50s approached us and asked my friend “do you have a boyfriend?” My friend nodded her head. As he was turning towards me, I smelled alcohol in his breath.

Since he was rejected by my friend, he began to ask me if I had a boyfriend. Even though I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wasn’t interested in talking to this drunk man so I lied and said I had a boyfriend.

Creepy!

–Submitted by Athia–