During my first week at my new job, I was killing some time by washing some peaches at the communal sink near the refrigerators. I don’t know why, but I always wash my fruit – something about the sticky way fruit skin feels from pesticides that gives me the heeby-jeebies and convinces me that I’d rather my fruit smell slightly like dishwashing soap before consuming.

Anyways, as I was diligently washing my fruit, a voice from beside me said seductively “Mmmm are those peachessss? Do you always wash your peachessss?” “Umm, yes,” was my response. “Wow, those peaches look soooo juicyyy,” Ew, was all that I was thinking, but I managed a small smile. “I’m going to have to start washing my peachessss.” His conversation topic was nothing short of disturbing, so I quickly finished washing and scampered away.

Weird peach dude was quickly forgotten until one day I saw him staring at me from across the department – like 20 cubes away. Oh no, I thought, and ducked my head low, using my cube walls as protection. Once again, I pushed Mr. Peach to the back of my mind, until the other night when I was leaving work.

As I left my department, he was in front of me and held the door open. I thanked him politely and continued on my way. Unfortunately, before being able to exit the building there were three more doors that needed opening before finally escaping outside. Mr. Peaches dutifully opened all of them for me and smiled at me creepily as I passed through each one. By the time the cold air hit my face as I walked outside, I thanked him one last time for holding open the door for me. He looked right at me, winked, and said with a sly, creepy grin, “I’m sure you’ll be able to think of some way to thank me in the future.” Ummm, no, that’s not going to happen, but needless to say, I’ve started walking out of the building with friends after my work day. And so far I have had no further run-ins with Mr. Peaches.

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