Old-Guy-Who-Stares

So the rule intensive trash procedures have changed recently, as announced by signs that I couldn’t read. Apparently, the bags that used to be provided for me by the apartment building are no longer sufficient, but I must buy specific trash bags at the store from now on. Why this change? Who knows, but I am glad that Kate informed me of the change. Anyhow, someone I call Old-Guy-Who-Stares tried to inform me of the change and handed me a detailed paper explaining the new trash procedures. I took it as I walked by, saying I understood, refusing to be detained or risk being late to work by trying to communicate. Why do I call him Old-Guy-Who-Stares? Well, let me tell you. Old-Guy practices swinging a baseball bat outside every morning before I go to school. As if that isn’t reason enough to be anxious around him, as I drive out of the parking lot in the mornings, he stops swinging his bat and stares at me as I drive by. I can’t stand it. I feel like I’m in a fishbowl and it makes me squirm. Kate thinks I’m paranoid, but I hate him staring at me. I will not change my driving patterns either to go out the other way, just so he doesn’t stare. I just try to completely ignore him. Over the past year, we have exchanged awkward conversation in the elevator, when I happen to get stuck with him. Anyhow, so yesterday as we got stuck together again, he said, “How long will you be in Japan? It’s already been 2 years right?” (in Japanese of course) Haha! I answered that I didn’t know and it’s only been one year. Then, awkward silence commences until we arrive at our final destinations. I must have made him mad. But for some reason this makes me feel happy. Maybe he won’t stare at me anymore and now I can smile at him. I must be crazy.