Like a bad 'Sex and the City' episode ...

I had a visitor this weekend who we will call Stan. Stan had met me once but was so infatuated by me that he drove to my apartment in Minneapolis to hang out. I could have been more forward-thinking in agreeing to such an event, but I also didn't really know what I was agreeing to.

Friday was fine. I was tired and feeling sick so I just kind of laid around wrapped up in my shield of a blanket. Saturday I had to work. I take my shower and start getting ready. I open my medicine cabinet door and scan the shelves for my makeup only to find an uninvited object. A male toothbrush and toothpaste were perched next to my eye shadow and a tampon.

I continued getting ready and pushed the "oh my god I am in a TV sitcom" feeling down inside. It doesn't get better. As I am leaving work, this is the conversation we have:

Stan: So, what kind of milk do you drink?
Me: Skim...
Stan: Well, I'll pick up some milk while you're at work.
Me: No. There are no grocery stores around here.
Stan: Probably at the gas station. I'll get a gallon.
Me: No, I can get my own milk Monday.

He got milk anyway. I can get my own milk.

Then I get a letter in the mail that Stan had written earlier in the week. It was too much. My eyes are definitely not crystalline and my lips are just like my art teacher in elementary school taught- two ice cream scoops and a bowl. That's it. I delay reality at work and then huddle in my freezing car outside my apartment talking on the phone for an hour.

I finally go back into my apartment and ask him to go back home to dreamland where girls aren't so fiercely independent and don't mind if you call them at work to ask where the scoop is for the litter box (which I had cleaned the day before).

As he exits stage right, he recites me a poem he wrote. It's good but kind of awkward for a girl that just told him to hit the road. Other things I have since discovered: My winter coat is hung up in my closet, my towel was draped across a hanger and hung on a door, and there is a bottle of Dr Pepper in my fridge. Oh, and some fresh milk.