scents and sensibility
Wandering around the Greenbelt mall, I managed to pick up three stalkers in two different stores.
Granted, I did finally buy my Clean perfume with the intent of... well, smelling attractive (Sounds weird, dunnit?), but I hadn't bargained on some shaggy-haired guy trailing me around Powerbooks, sniffing conspicuously over my shoulder.
The other guy was more subtle, or so he thought. His strategy was to keep accidentally-on-purpose winding up in the same aisle as me, approaching from the opposite end of the bookshelves. Clever, eh? I probably wouldn't have noticed, either, except that he made a practice of picking up every book I looked at and pretending to examine it assidously. I figured he was pretending by the way he frowned ferociously while 'reading' the back of a book which I knew for a fact had no cover blurb.
I considered confronting the two bozos, but with what, exactly? Neither sniffing nor book-fondling is exactly a criminal offense (though perhaps the latter should be). So I chatted up the friendly security guard until the stalkers faded away on their own; then I beat feet out of there.
Comfortingly, the third stalker--in the First Aid beauty store--turned out to be a gay guy who just wanted to know what my perfume was called so he could get some for himself.