Sunday (literal) Rundown

Thursday night, the Tripod (Lizzie, WhittyWoo & I) made an appearance at Davey's Uptown. In part to celebrate the job offer I received (and accepted) but also because we were invited by Ben. Ben is a member of The KC Pimp and he invited us there to enjoy a funky (11 member) jazz band. The music was great, dancing and grooving to the 5 horns, 2 drums, keyboard, guitar, bass and huge beaded noise maker thingie was good times. And mad props to that old, old black guy with half a set of teeth and a walking cane for getting all us whities to get our groove on.

Ben wasn't even a special kind of crazy/weird. At least that is what I thought. His eyes were a little buggy and toward the end of the night, was dancing a little too close for comfort. I lied when I said I'd call him sometime.

Seeing how underwhelming (either way) this meeting was, I wasn't even going to mention it. Until he chased us down Sunday afternoon. LITERALLY.

The 3 of us were doing some window shopping in our neighborhood shops and boutiques and had just popped into a local card and gift shop. I was busy looking at the coFFee staiN card collection when I hear someone walk in and say "THERE you girls are."

I look up and see Ben all sweaty and out of breath. WTF? WhereTF? HowTF? WhyTF?

Liz and Whitney start the small talk, thankfully, since I am still looking at him in disbelief that he chased us down the road on his bicycle and followed us into the store. Upon interrogation he admits to being in the neighborhood since we spoke so highly of it. Um, weird dude. That is actually a form of stalking. I don't do jack to keep a conversation flowing, hoping he'd get the hint and leave. He doesn't.

He finally leaves and the store owner asks if we know that guy. Groaning "yes"es, we admit to it and she responds that she's seen that guy around from time to time and he is weird. Liz asks if we're going to talk about what just happened and I told her, just like the giant zit on my forehead; we are ignoring it.