The Strange Pervert in the Corner

Learning to be single and alone can be tough. It takes some readjusting. I thought I was well on my way to mastering "aloneness" by having taken myself out to dinner without pretending to be reading or texting. I could eat alone and just eat.

Then I discovered that being alone in Vegas is a whole different ball game.

Wondering around the casinos I noticed that everyone was either in a couple or a group. It was Junior High all over again. I was the odd woman out.

I would get inquisitive stares. It was like a lone man wondering around a park full of children, people can't help but think he might be a pervert. I felt that being single and alone in Vegas stirred the same reaction. What would someone be doing in Vegas by themselves?

When sitting down for dinner the host always puts me in some dark corner, probably so I would not be embarrassed by my "aloneness". I feel like I should be wearing a hoodie and dark sun glasses, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Like a "Strange Pervert in the Corner."

Strolling through Caesar's Palace I discovered I was the perfect target for people selling stuff along the Colosseum shops. One salesman was so persistent I agreed to try the latest lotion claiming to make my skin look younger.

Smiling, he gently applied the lotion to my arm and nonchalantly mentioned in a foreign accent. "I would like to rub this lotion all over your body."

I smiled and wormed my arm away. Giggling nervously, I said I had a reservation and scurried off. He shouted after me to come back after dinner so we could continue, which I could only imagine what exactly that would entail.

Eating at Sushi Roku I could see from my table the "Lotion Man" trying to reel in other people. I noticed there was no way around him and my only escape would be walking past his booth.

I desperately schemed how I would pass him without grabbing his attention again. I noticed an exit just outside of the restaurant and slightly to the right. If I stuck close to the wall I could slip away undetected.

Finishing the last few bites of sushi and paying the bill, I dashed to my escape. Sticking to the wall as planned, I was just about to the exit, when my foot slipped.

I was falling forward.

"Shit", I loudly exclaimed.

I hit the ground hard.

My body slapping the floor echoed through the mall. Blank faces turned to gaze in my direction. I cursed myself for not seeing the steps.

I had been spotted.

Trying to regain my composure, I nodded to "Lotion Man" and continued out the door. So much for slipping away undetected.

Maybe I'm not as comfortable eating alone as I believed. And maybe not my eating alone had earned me the title of "Strange Pervert in the Corner", but my actions of an awkward escape?