"I'm not stalking you, I swear," she said to him as he stared across the produce section in the grocer.

"Oh? The coffee shop by your office I could understand. The subway too. Maybe we live on the same line. The movie theatre might have been a coincidence. And the cologne section at Macy's could be justified. I'm a little concerned that you'd appear in the same Casino, the same bar and the same strip club, but to each their own. So that you'd even say you're not stalking me, here, in a grocery store, the most obvious place for two people from the same city to run into each other, makes me suspicious. Explain yourself, or I'll call the police."

"Well It's like this. My sister works at the strip club.'

'That's not what I asked you.'

'The guilty Conscience? Ok that's fair. I'm feeling like you may have taken notice of all these coincidences and might be ... well, you might call the police as you said."

"And why shouldn't I?"

"If you haven't noticed you're walking better."

"What's that to do with it?"

"Well you walk better when women are watching you. When I'm around you stand taller. You should keep me around. Marry me?"

"Oh, alright then. Yes.