Kentucky-Fried Perv

You know who you are, that paper-thin, whippet-like Charro Chicken delivery guy who puts bags of food (customers' orders!) on the ground and walks over to my car every time I park at the grocery store. You're that guy who lisps and consequently spits at me because you talk to me with your face too close to my window. You know what? You are so creepy and annoying I drive an extra 5 miles every week just to do my grocery shopping! I am not interested, and no, I don't want a hug (I don't know you!). No, I don't want to have dinner (six rejections is enough), and incessantly asking if I'm sure only makes you even less attractive (yes, it's possible). Start paying attention to your job and quit stalking customers in the parking lot, and you might actually get to keep delivering chicken. Who knows? I may actually be able to go grocery shopping next to my house again. Thanks for running up my gas bill, you punk!

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