My new friend told me that her husband didn’t like her talking to me.
She would end her chats with me very abruptly and hurry away each time she heard him in the distance.
I asked her what exactly the issue was. She said “he thinks you will give me ideas.”
The dude was right, in a way. I guess I did give her ideas but they were all about food. That’s all we ever talked about: food. She and I both loved cooking.
I wondered what the thesis for his “ideas” paranoia was but didn’t dwell on that too long. I knew it was futile to try and understand his mental jumble sale.
I bumped into him at a supermarket one morning. He pretended to be looking at something else. I was looking homeless, so I went along with the game.
When it happened a second time, I had to laugh. The dude seriously wasn’t messing around. I watched him stare at some Listerine for 7 minutes straight.
They moved to another city soon afterwards.
She gave me no forwarding details because Mr Listerine told her that they didn’t need to keep contact with any “old friends”.
I was relieved when they left. (Because God knows that a village somewhere was missing their idiot)
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