Y’all, seriously.  I have that sixth sense.

Remember, like, some months back, I wrote a post about a book that was featured on Oprah that talked about your fight-or-flight instincts?  IT HAPPENED TODAY. 

I didn’t have to take the Binja anywhere this morning, so I ended up at work way early.  The janitorial staff was making their rounds, and there was a young man with them that I’d never seen before.  His eyes absolutely lit up the minute they rounded my corner, so I smiled back and went on my way. 

They stopped at my cube fifteen minutes later to grab my trash, and the young man said, “Hi, what’s your name?  My name is John.  I’m new here.”

I said, “Hi, John.  My name is Sarah.  We’re happy to have you.” 

Now, I should admit that it was obvious that the boy was not firing on all six cylinders, but I grew up around specially abled people.  I’m not easily skeeved out.  At all, really.  But this one?  This one SERIOUSLY bothered me.

First of all, he just lingered.  Staring and smiling.  And then he stepped inside of my space bubble.  I nodded and suggested he go pick up the other trash.  He scampered off behind the older gentleman that usually makes the rounds.  But in a minute, he was back in my cube.  Just smiling and staring.  And laughing.

At nothing.

And I was done.  “Okay, have a good weekend,” I said, brushing by him and leaving.

It bothered me enough that I mentioned it to my boss and another coworker.  They actually knew exactly whom I was talking about, because he had given them a weird vibe, too.  So I thought, “Sarah, you are being ridiculous.  He’s just a little daft in the head, poor boy.  And here you are, making him out to be some monster.  Bless his heart.”

He came BACK to pick up our trash around noon.  Mind you, we never get this kind of attention by our service.  And, of course, he was hanging around my cube.  Just smiling.  And staring.  And laughing.

At nothing.

The older gentleman saw him standing there and said, “Come on, John.  Let’s get moving.”  Then, after John had left, the older gentleman came back.  He stood there for a minute, trying to find the words.  “Miss,” he said, hesitantly, “I want you to keep an eye on that one, okay?  He ain’t right in the head, and he sure has takin’ a shine to you.  But he just ain’t right.  Don’t ever turn your back on that one.”

Our conversation is usually gentile and superficial, but this was real.  “Is he dangerous?” I asked, my face showing my concern.

“Well, Miss, I don’t rightly know,” he answered, scratching his head and checking to see that John wasn’t within earshot.  “But I sure as hell wouldn’t wait to see.”

As soon as he left, I called our focal and asked that John not work in our building anymore.  The lady actually said, “Yeah, he’s on work-release, but I’m not sure that it’s gonna work out.”  Um, okay.

SO LET IT BE SAID, IF YOU FEEL WEIRD ABOUT SOMETHING, YOU’RE PROBABLY RIGHT.