A Ballooning Sense Of Desperation

| TX, USA | Romantic | February 26, 2017

(It’s the start of February, so we’ve begun putting up Valentine balloons around the store. One of my coworkers, in her mid-20s, is placing balloon sets through the aisles when she comes back with a weird look on her face. She comes behind the balloon counter where we are.)

Coworker #1: “There’s some guy stalking me around the store.”

Coworker #2: “What? Who? I didn’t see anyone.”

(Sure enough, around five minutes later, a man in his 60s who looks like he may have some mental complications comes around the balloon counter, trying to look sneaky. He looks at me, then Coworker #2, but can’t seem to find the worker he’s been following, since she’s snuck into the office nearby.)

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Man: “Yeah, uh, I was… How much are your balloons?”

Me: “The mylar hearts are 99 cents apiece. Would you like some?”

Man: “Oh. No… well, yeah. Um. Was there a girl earlier? Long blonde hair?”

Coworker #1: “Do you mean Sandy?” *name of another coworker that isn’t there that day* “She had to go run an errand.”

Man: *suddenly grins like he’s just heard the most beautiful thing ever* “Yeah, is that her? Does she work here? Can I get her phone number from you guys?”

Me: “Sorry, no. We don’t give personal information out.”

Man: “Oh… I get that. Can I have her schedule, then?”

Me: “No, we don’t give those out to non-employees.”

Man: “Oh. Sandy is her name? Okay.”

(He walks out to his car and sits there. We watch him for a few minutes before getting back to work. Coworker #1 finally comes back out, getting back to work. Thirty minutes later, he comes back in, and makes a beeline for the balloon counter while we are all helping customers.)

Man: “Sandy! Hey, Sandy!”

Coworker #1: “That isn’t my name. I’m a little busy right now, sir.”

Man: “Sandy, I made something for you!”

Coworker #1: “Thank you, sir. If you’ll leave it there, I can look at it later, but right now I’m busy.”

Man: “Will you go out with me, Sandy?”

Coworker #1: “Sir, I’m busy.”

(He stood there for five minutes, then walked back out to the car and drove off. Apparently he had stolen one of our Valentine cards, had used ketchup to draw inside of the card, and had used a pencil to write his phone number with ‘I love you’ written on the back. A week later, on Valentine’s Day, he came back up to the shop to give her a note. I was off that day, but I was told the letter was about how he was in love with her and wanted to marry her. He wanted to know if she wanted to go on a date sometime and to call him. He wrote for her to call him a few times in the letter, and had written ‘I love you’ around the corners of the paper, as well. He came back an hour after delivering the letter, dressed in a tux, to ask her again for a date and to tell her he was in his car, waiting. They said he waited three hours out there, then drove off. After that, we never saw him again.)

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