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2003-10-29 - 4:06 p.m. Creepy Guy came in to the office today to bring us lunch. It was a mixed blessing. I was really hungry and I do love a good free lunch but I hate having to eat it while Creepy Guy smilingly looks on. Who is Creepy Guy? I�m glad you asked. Creepy Guy is a drug rep, the strange breed whose sole function is to suck up to medical office workers in order to finagle five minutes with the doctor and push their pharmaceutical products citing case studies and research - most of which we were a part of and already know about. What makes Creepy Guy so, well, creepy is an odd combination of appearance and behavior that conspires to make one�s neck hairs stand on end. Creepy Guy is not a bad looking fellow. He�s a rather tall, broad shouldered man with slightly ruddy skin, dark curly hair and large blue eyes. I�m a fan of blue eyes generally but in Creepy Guy�s case they suffer from constant blood-shot and they�re always very shiny, glass-like you might say. I sometimes wonder if C.G. has been dipping into his sample supply. But the creepiest thing of all is his voice, or rather his tone of voice when he says anyone�s name. He has that breathy rasp that makes him sound like he�s acting out a steamy love scene in soap operatic fashion. He manages to say your name every sentence he speaks, to boot! Like this: �HHHhelloooo, Hhhethel. Hhhhow are yooooou? Hhhethel, will the doctor be available soon to sign for some samples? Hhhhethel, I just wrote this note for Dr. So and So. Could you make sure she get�s it? Thanks, Hhhhethel.� Then he�ll just sit there with his signature glassy-eyed smile for the next hour and a half. Honestly, I don�t even remember telling him my name. I�m pretty sure he just heard someone else say it but he�s making sure I know he knows it now. His overly intimate use of my name makes me feel the way Native Americans do about photos, that he steals a bit of my soul every time my name leaves his mouth. Maybe it sounds crazy to you, and if it were only me I�d agree but everyone in the office cringes when he walks through the door. There�s a sudden flurry of activity, a general avoidance of the waiting room where he sits and whispered discussions about whether he�s left yet so we can move about freely. In all fairness, he did bring lunch today and know I should just be grateful, and I am, especially now that he�s gone. Maybe I'm the creep here for not being appreciative and well, a little less than kind but I know someone out there reading this understands. There are certain people who, for whatever reason, are the oil slick to our water. No matter how hard they might shake the bottle they never quite blend in. So what's a girl to do? � 
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