(I know that many of you are unfamiliar with the term “skeeves”. Or to be “skeeved out”. This may be because it is a word I have invented. I have a habit of doing that. But it essentially means to be creeped out by someone who is slightly inexplicably sleazy.)
There’s an old man that I keep running into at the Laundromat (or Laundrette, for you Brits) and he definitely gives me the skeeves. I could be all The Gift of Fear and say that he’s evil and creepy and out to do horrible things. However, I suspect that's not true. But I can’t quite figure out the reason for the skeeves.
Sure, he’s a creepy old man, but there are lots of creepy old men. And I'm not skeeved out by the majority of them. He does wear nail polish, and that’s a bit unusual. It was gold this week, but I’ve seen him in black and red. But that in itself is not the reason for the skeeves. He doesn’t appear to speak – he seems to communicate with a signal of hand gestures and noises. But he tries to talk, so I’m not sure what that’s about. I think he can, but just chooses not to. Again, though. Not the reason for the skeeves. Both of things add up to just a weird old man.
I think it’s the fact that he’s very friendly. Very friendly. Not in a creepy way. I mean, I don't think he's hitting on me or anything (ew!) , but there seems to be something slightly off about him. And he seems to think we’re buddies now that we’ve done our laundry at the same time more than once.
He just gives me the skeeves.
Maybe I should start doing my laundry on Saturdays now.