CRUISED BY POPEYE

When I get situated at dialysis, lately I have been seated to the left of another patient, an old Russian guy who looks like Popeye. From the moment I arrive to the moment I leave, his head is turned to facilitate staring at me for the next four hours. When I happen to look in his direction, I notice that he does not blink, but he invariably grins like a loony. I thought I was misreading him, but today added fuel to my slowly-growing suspicion that he’s into me. As I collected myself and packed my treatment bag for departure, he suddenly spoke in heavily-accented English and said “You move like dancer!!” which was followed by flashing me a mostly toothless grin. I nodded to him and made my getaway.

I don’t know what the fuck he sees when observing me, but I assure you it’s nothing especially graceful. But whatever the case, I find it quite amusing.