Giggler

"Are you going to get the new IPhone?"  A short, giggling European* man hovered behind me (as much as someone so fat can hover), while I read Master and Commander on my IPad and ate my chili bean sandwich.

"I don't know.  Maybe."  An hour ago, with my friend, I'd been much more impassioned: "I'm ordering one online tomorrow!"

He giggled.  High-pitched and girlish.  It's this giggle that makes me swear I'll never laugh again.

I closed up my IPad, lest he ask what I was reading -- I couldn't bear to discuss Jack Aubrey with him; it'd be like seeing the name of your lover on a bathroom wall --  and headed to the sink.   He followed, always a few steps behind.  Giggling. "I'm getting one in Hong Kong."

I knew I was supposed to ask, "You're going to Hong Kong?"  But I just said, "Ahum."

"They're cheaper in Hong Kong. A 64 GB one there costs ..." etc. etc.  Giggle.

I turned around and inadvertently faced him.  I can't decide if he purposely stares at my boobs or if he's just shy.  But, in any case, he gave up all attempt at telling me about the IPhone cost comparison and just stood there, staring and giggling.

He's a nice guy, I'm sure, and whatnot.  Probably donates more to charity than me.   I feel mean for avoiding him and do my best to simulate a kind expression -- God knows what my expression actually looks like. 

Well, this guy certainly doesn't.

*Purposely left vague....