Remember when I wrote about that sweet old man at my internship who I talked to at the bus stop and then he got on the bus to tell me good-bye? Well, the story continues. This morning I was sitting in my supervisor’s office checking emails and he walked in.
“Hello,” I said, smiling at him.
“Good morning, I’m so glad to see your smiling face again.”
I laughed a little and said, “Thanks.”
“What’s your name again?”
“Oh, Ashley. That’s a pretty name. My name is Donald (I think he said his name is John last time, but you never know with these people). Well, actually my name is Hitler, but my second name is Donald. If I tell people my name is Hitler they get scared.”
“Oh, okay…” I nodded in agreement.
“I’ll tell you what. I get paid this afternoon. What if I take you out to lunch?”
“Thank you, but I’ll still be working. I appreciate it though.”
“Alright. We’ll I’ll see you around. Keep being beautiful.”
Oh the joys of working with the schizophrenic population. You never know what they are going to say. Did one of my clients really just ask me on a date? A man who is at least 40 years older than me? Huh. I guess it’s nice to know that even if NB isn’t interested I can always find a date at an adult home.
(Edited To Add: Donald continued to ask me out on dates for several weeks, to the point where it become inappropraite. I spoke with my supervisor about the situation and decided to tell Donald that I would not tolerate this behavior because it was inappropraite. Finally, he stopped.)