MY FRIEND MIKE

Last week I went to Target to buy a shoe rack. It was probably a bad idea for me to wear thigh highs to Target - but I don't have a fashion show to go to, so Target seemed good enough.


As I was walking out, I hear these guys start hollering at me from their car. I keep walking to my car, pretending I don't hear them. I put my shoe rack in the backseat and buckle my seat belt. I'm about to leave when I see this guy walking towards my car. He's wearing a backwards hat and smoking a cigarette.

I roll down my window, and he asks:
"Hey, what's your name?"
I stare blankly.
"What's your name?"
"Lulu"
"I like your outfit."
"Thanks"
"What are you doing right now."
And I'm thinking, dude, I'm going to go home and assemble my shoe rack. You would know, you fucking stalked me across the parking lot.
"Nothing"
"Do you want to hang out with me and my friend Mike?"
"No"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah"
"Are you sure you don't want to hang out with me and MY FRIEND MIKE."

After I left, I finished building my shoe rack. And now when people ask me what I did last week. I say, I almost got raped in the Target parking lot.