Weird Guys: "Wheel me Back in!"

 Continuing my series on my experiences with one or more weird guys, I invite others to share their "weird guy" stories as well.

My beat-up Volkswagen needed some repairs to its upholstery, and this was in the eighties when you didn't Google "auto upholstery" shops. You looked in the Yellow Pages and then went to check out likely addresses. 

I was checking out an address in Wilmington, that community that's centered around the Port of Los Angeles, and the address I found turned out to not be an auto upholstery shop, just an auto parts store. They were probably just listed in the phone book because they sold sheepskin seat covers, or something like that, but I thought I'd stop in anyway. One of the clerks might be able to suggest a good auto upholstery shop nearby, or something.

I parked on the street right outside the store's door and went in. There appeared to be only one employee, a woman at the cash register, and she had a line of two or three customers. Near the check-out counter was one other person, a skinny pale-faced pale-haired young man in a wheelchair, and he spoke using of those tracheostomy valves inplanted in his throat.

He looked at me and demanded, "Why are you here?"

I explained I was here to see about getting my car's upholstery repaired.

"Show me your car!" he demanded.

"I need somebody who can give me an estimate for repairing my car's upholstery, do you know somebody who can?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, show me your car!"

I figured, no harm in being courteous to him, after all, he might be the check-out woman's son or something. I said, "Fine, I'll show you my car, it's just outside the door."

I held the shop door open and he wheeled out onto the sidewalk. I pointed to my battered Volkswagen and the torn upholstery. "See?" I explained, "That's the upholstery I want repaired."

His immediate response, "Wheel me back in!" 

Not only nothing about the car he was so hot to see, but not even, "Could you please hold the door so I can get back in the shop?" Not even a "please." Kings commanding their servants have more courtesy than he was showing me.

I knew I was wasting my time. I smiled sweetly as I got my keys from my purse and started to get in my car, at the same time saying, politely, "You got yourself out here. You can get yourself back in." 

I got in and started the motor, looked in the rearview mirror. He was struggling in his chair and glaring at me, as if utterly furious, as if he wanted to get out of that chair and pound me into the ground. I drove away.

I encountered a similar type in 2017, not in a wheelchair, but who apparently just thought women were put on this earth for him to make any demand of, anywhere, anytime. I was on a road trip in New Mexico and pulled over to read a roadside historical marker. At least there were other people around, it wasn't like it was a deserted stretch of highway.

I was minding my own business, reading the marker, when a voice demanded, "Gimme your camera! Lemme take your picture!"

I didn't even have my camera on me--it wasn't like it was in plain view, so even his assumption that I had a camera to give was weird.

Not, "Excuse me, Miss, but would you like me to take your picture?"

I looked at the guy and gave a blistering, "No, thank you!"

"But you look so cute," the guy whined, like that was an excuse.

I didn't finish reading the historical marker. I went straight to my car and got the You-know-where out of there. I checked my rear-view mirror a few times to make sure I wasn't being followed. That's the scariest on-the-road encounter I've ever had.