Can I Help You?

Okay, I have another pet peeve. It's the guy or gal who greets you when you walk into the book store, not looking for much, and maybe just killing time in order to find what you want to read next.

"Can I help you?" They ask. "Just Looking," I answer. They don't get the hint. "Well, we have a wide slection of books in every subject. If there's something you need me to help you find, I can."

"Good for you," I think. Instead, I just smile and look away. The over-eager sales person follows me from aisle to aisle.

Anyway, they are less aggravating then the waitress who returns to your table thirty five times to ask you how every bite of freaking food tastes. "Is everything all right?" "How are you, doing?" "Is your steak cooked right?"

For God's sake, leave me alone. I have taken to eating at a Chinese Buffet - not because I love the food so much, but because the only conversation goes like this. "Would you like something to drink?" "Water and tea," I answer. "Very well, help yourself."

Then it's off to the races. No one cares if I like the egg rolls. No one wants to know if I want dessert. Eat and leave- little human contact. Perfect.

I suppose I shouldn't be so mean, but sometimes, especially when I'm out there on my own, I just want to eat and read the sports.

I have taken to doing something awfully mean. Whenever someone comes to me and asks - "Can I help you?"

I put on my best sinister smile and in a low voice I say, "Why certainly, what did you have in mind?"

This makes them run away quickly.