I came down with a major sore throat after coming back from Toronto, and after two half-days of missed work finally made a doctor’s appointment. I went in yesterday afternoon, whereupon the doc looked in my mouth for about a half-second and said, “Eww! That’s all red! Amoxycillin for you!” It must have been bad to make him nearly jump back from me. So I get my scrip for giant pink horse pills and saunter out.
In the parking lot across from my car is what looks like an aged circuit boy in an older Audi convertible: 50-ish, remaining hair gone white, sort of cute in an impish middle-aged way. He’s talking on his cell but staring at me so hard I check to make sure my pants haven’t suddenly blown away. I was dressed somewhat twinkish: low-rise jeans, tight blue ringer t-shirt, Birks. I drive out of the lot and he follows me east on 11 Mile. I think nothing of it until he matches speeds with me. I look over and he gives me a big smile and makes the flirty face. I smile back, flattered by the attention but suddenly uncomfortable at the same time. I’ve almost never been any good at flirting; I either don’t know what to say, or I’m afraid I’ll unintentionally commit to something I’d rather not do.
Anyway, we play automotive leapfrog down 11 Mile, trading smiles, until just before the corner at Woodward Ave., when he cuts across in front of me and pulls into the store on the SW corner (I think it’s a florist?), clearly expecting me to follow him in. I decide not to take the bait, and he’s visibly thrown off his stride when I don’t play the game. I mean, he wasn’t bad looking, and the blatant attention was a nice ego boost, but I definitely was not interested. He recovered quickly, and when I made the Michigan left to go north on Woodward, he kept following. “Cute” was rapidly becoming “creepy”, so I decided to lose him in traffic. I managed to put some distance between us on the way up to Coolidge but, of course, every slow bitch driving an SUV picked that moment to get in front of me, so he made one more pass before I turned on to Coolidge and lost him.
On the plus side, my throat has stopped hurting after only two doses of antibiotic, and I even feel up to hitting the gym today for the first time in a week.