That Creep Chickened Out

I’m picking up a few things at the dollar store for a children’s event. This particular store usually has a security guard because it’s in a sketchy part of town. As I’m finding my things, another patron looks me up and down, whistles at me, makes a comment about my a**, and starts following me through the store. I’m a long way from the doors and tills, so I start trying to find the security guard, as I’m not comfortable confronting the creepy patron myself.

As I’m making my way through the store, I pass by a rack of rubber chickens. I pause to examine them, since they are one of the items I am there to pick up. The first chicken I grab makes a loud and obnoxious squeaking sound, startling both me and the creep on my tail. I make eye contact with the creep, who is now scowling at me. I grin and proceed to make as much noise with the chicken as possible — partly because I think rubber chickens are hilarious and partly because it’s making the creep uncomfortable. I toss several chickens into my cart just as the security guard comes walking out the end of an aisle, presumably to tell me to shut up. The creep backs away from me, and I finish my trip in peace. I like to think he was deterred by my bounty of obnoxious rubber chickens. 

I should note that I ended up giving the chickens back at the till after deciding that our event would be hectic enough without trying to compete over the noise of rubber chickens controlled by children.