Itchy Horses

This post may be slightly offensive,but I have to tell the stories because they really happened and crap like this only happens to me!! 

I have always been a magnet for weirdos, for as long as I can remember and for awhile there while weighing 315 pounds, I didn't have the problem.  Maybe being fat makes one unapproachable, I don't know.

Anyway, scenario number 1:

Two weeks ago at the Y, Paula and I had just started out workout.  I was working with hand weights and she was using one of the arm machines in the circuit and we were chatting when this man approached us.  It was obvious that he was mentally challenged, but it was still an odd conversation.  I had seen him in there before working out.

W1 (Weirdo #1) to me:  You're not going to tell on me, are you?

Me: No, I won't tell on you (while in my head, I am thinking, "What are you going to do?")

W1: You won't tell on me?

Me: Nope.

W1: Why does our skin itch?

Me: (in a dead serious voice, I may add) I don't know.

W1: (to Paula) You're not going to tell on me, are you?

So, for the last two weeks, the giggle fests have been "You're not going to tell on me, are you?" and "Why does our skin itch?"  Paula and I will just say it out of the blue to each other just for our own amusement.

But he was harmless enough.  The experience last night made me feel like I needed to go home and shower.

Aaron had therapy until 8:00 last night and as we had library books due back, we stopped at the library on our way home.  He headed for the kid's section for more Hardy Boys books and I perused the new fiction in the adult section.  After selecting three books and taking note that Aaron was looking something up on the computer, I wandered down the adult section to where they have the books on horses. 

There was a guy, maybe mid-twenties, kneeling on the floor, looking at a book, and I walked around him to just glance at the titles on the shelf.  This is where this entry gets a little offensive, but it really happened this way.

W2:  Am I in your way?

Me: No.  You're fine.

W2: (shows me a picture in the book he is looking at and I just glance at it, not really centering on what was in the picture, other than a horse) I think this is so cool; when a mare drops a foal.

Me: Yeah, it is.  It's a miracle.

W2:  I love horses.

Me: Yeah, me too. (the whole time I am preferring to not be having this conversation as I keep looking at books).

W2: I wish I was a horse.

Me: (nervous laugh.  This was getting weird)

W2:  I say that because I am messing with one now.  A female.

Alarm bells are going off in my head, but I am still trying to convince myself this is all harmless.  I say nothing.

W2: (in a hushed voice) When I'm with her, things that aren't usually that big, get bigger.  Huge.  Like a horse.

At this point, I am repulsed and sarcasm is dripping from my voice as I turn away on a "That's real nice."

I intercept Aaron and head to the security guy at the front door to report this jerk, but by the time we search the library for him, he is gone.

They always find me and I just have to document it for posterities sake.