Mr. Offputting

Welcome back. I’m afraid as you walk in today, you’ll find it largely unchanged from your last visit. The sun is still vibrant, the colors still bright, but the unease has become fear. The air so thick you have a hard time taking a breath. You should be warned, this isn’t going to be a pleasant visit. As you step though the room, you find yourself looking around for the source of this feeling. But you can’t find it.

The Book waits, and you sit at the edge of the window seat and pick it up with a nervous little laugh.

Mr. Offputting

Just breathe, Shelby told herself. She was planning on walking across the street to the bookshop on her break. But when she came out of the store room to find Mr. Offputting sitting in his usual spot at the tall table near the register, her plans instantly changed. He caught her off guard and managed to make eye contact, giving her his weird, smirky grin. She had given him a perfunctory smile in return and cursed herself. Her reflexes to be “nice” were too quick.

Now she sat on the coffee stained couch with a copy of The Bean Trees in her hand and her eyes locked on Mr. Offputting’s reflection in the shop window. She wouldn’t risk leaving the coffee shop, even if it was just across the way. At least here Marcus knew about the man. And there was no question, if Mr. Offputting saw her leave, he’d follow. Who knows what he’d say to her out in the street without anyone to intervene.

She had to keep reminding herself not to hold her breath, or to breath too quickly. The creeper would probably tell her that such a “pretty girl” shouldn’t gulp air like a fish, because it was off putting. God, why had she been so stupid? Why had she made eye contact?

Because, she thought, he isn’t usually here on Tuesdays. That’s why. And he was never in before noon. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from frowning, and let her gaze pass through his reflection to the sunlit street. Tilting her head, just a little to catch the warmth on her cheek, she did her best to relax.

She could feel his eyes on her, though. Her stomach crawled into her throat and she felt the sudden, unhinged urge to laugh. Not because Mr. Offputting was here on a Tuesday before noon, but because he still affected her after all this time. Her hands were sweaty, and her heart was racing. This dude was a problem. He’d already chased off a few of the younger women. And Shelby was just about over it.

She thought of poor Andrea, The Roast was her first job, right out of highschool. Shelby was ashamed to admit that, at first, she’d been happy that the guy’s attention shifted off of her. But then she realized that Andrea wasn’t handling it well. Because of course she wasn’t! 

Andrea had made the mistake of being kind to Mr. Offputting and he zeroed in on her after that. Telling her all the ways a “pretty girl” did and did not act. 

Shelby tried to intervene, tried to draw his attention back to herself. But he wasn’t interested in a forty year old woman he’d been looking at from “his” table for over fifteen years. Not when there was a “pretty young girl” there to torment with his unsolicited advice on looks, behavior and poise. 

The final straw, as far as Shelby could tell, was when Andrea finally told the old guy off. She just broke one day and blurted, “You know, Mick, I’m so glad that you find me off putting,” her voice pleasant and peppy, she went on, “you’re old and gross, and I don’t want you to like me.”

 He didn’t respond with words. But the look he gave her! His eyes actually went black and he flashed one of those smirky smiles that made all the women uncomfortable.

Andrea didn’t even give notice. She just stopped coming into work. Never even bothered to pick up her last check. Shelby didn’t blame her. At that moment, she wished she’d quit years ago too. The same thing happened with a few others, but Shelby couldn’t remember their names. It had all happened pretty much the same way though.

Mr. Offputting would harass them and be creepy. And they’d just vanish. 

Marcus, the manager, had done his best. But the owner refused to let him ban Mr. Offputting from the coffee shop because he was a customer and a harmless old man who likes pretty girls. And hey, he tips well, why complain? Yeah, he tipped well alright, but only if the “pretty girl” let him put the twenty in her apron pocket himself. Shelby almost rolled her eyes at the thought, but caught herself. God forbid she do something off putting.

Her phone hummed in her pocket. She jumped and looked down at it. It was her sister asking when she got off work. She frowned when she saw that it was already past one o’clock. She shot to her feet, adjusted her apron, and cursed under her breath.

When she passed Mr. Offputting he winked at her. She didn’t react this time, but rushed by him and back to the counter. He stayed there, in “his” place, slouched in the tall chair drinking free refills until the end of Shelby’s shift. Someone should tell him that ugly old men shouldn’t slouch, it was off putting.

She snorted.

“What’s funny,” the new guy, Toby, asked.

“Nothing,” she said and shook her head. “It really isn’t funny,” she added.

“You laughed,” Toby pointed out, lifting his eyebrows at her. “Must have been kind of funny.”

Shelby dropped her gaze to the counter, leaned close to Toby, and whispered, “It’s that guy at the table. He lives for his bottomless mug. And he’s a total creeper. You’ll get to know him, unfortunately, he’s a regular.” She wasn’t sure why she told Toby any of this. It wasn’t like Mr. Offputting would bother him.

“You’re done for the day, right?” Was Toby’s loud response. His eyes were wide, his smile tight.

Shelby looked up. Her stomach swooped into her toes.

Of course Mr. Offputting was standing there, with his wallet open, smiling at her and ignoring Toby.

“Yep, I sure am,” she said and turned away from the counter, reaching behind her back to untie her apron and pull it over her head. Her feet hurt, and the steady pulse of a headache was beating behind her right eye. She really didn’t want to deal with the creep. When she came out of the stock room she found Mr. Offputting gone. Thank God.

“He definitely gives off vibes,” said Toby when Shelby stopped in front of the counter.

“I’m surprised you noticed, he usually doesn’t pay any attention to men,” she said, settling her messenger bag on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Toby.”

“Ok, Shelbs, see ya then.”

She stepped into the evening air, and looked up and down the street. The creeper wasn’t waiting. She relaxed a little, and headed for her car. She didn’t see Mr. Offputting slip from the shadows, his weird smirky smile turned menacing.