. . . with a couple of my LGFs (I'm not a father.) I was at the eatery in the K-Mart of my old home town, where I'd taken the two little girls--sisters--to eat. I worked there at the time, as did the girls' mother, whom I think I was waiting for or something. There was some reason I had to be there at that time but I can't recall now exactly why.

Anyway, in comes this guy who used to hang out at the restaurant my parents went to frequently, and my mom had informed me once that the guy had been convicted of molesting a child. Now, you have to understand that I don't rush to judgment easily, but this time I had a pretty bad feeling about him. The guy was, shall we say, an unsavory character--a greasy, unkempt slob and devious-looking, with an air of stupidity on top of it, which is a dangerous combination in my book.

So, the guy spots me, and I'm sure he'd seen me around and knew the girls weren't mine. He may very well have picked up on me being a ped, and he comes and sits down right next to our table and starts up a conversation with me immediately. Like you, I think he thought I was sexual with the girls and wanted a "piece of the action." He kept buttering me up and asking me things, but he'd look at the girls while talking to me. To make a long story short, the dude creeped me out twenty ways to Sunday, and if not for the fact that I had to stay there to meet up with the girls' mother (I think), I would've left. I think I did finally decide to walk around the store a bit with girls, just sort of hovering around the eatery so I's know when she got there.

Ironically, the guy died a few months later from an absessed tooth that had been left untreated. Good riddance, if you ask me. I really, really got an awful vibe from the guy. I swear he looked at my LGFs as if they were pieces of meet; I'm surprised he didn't drool, it was so obvious what he had in mind.