I was sitting at the front desk one day and heard the door open. At first I thought it was a ghost because no one appeared. And then I heard a voice.
I peered over the edge of the counter and there stood Gary Coleman, that's right, Gary Friggin Coleman. He came around the desk to say hello to me and extended his hand in what I thought was going to be a handshake.
But I was wrong.
He went right for em. Took his teeny little hand and grabbed my left tit. And not only did he grab it, he squeezed it and actually said, "Honk! Honk!"
I was dumbfounded.
He then told me how stunning I was with my long hair and sexy boots and sauntered away.
I was still dumdfounded.
Valentine's Day was the following week. I had given up hope of receiving any kind of gift that year when lo and behold, a box of chocolates appeared on my desk. Attached was not a card, but a post it note. It was decorated with a mishapen heart, a phone number and the following sentiment:
You are very pretty. Will you go out with me sometime? Love, Gary
Though I knew what a GREAT story my date with Gary Coleman would have been, I declined. I was dreadfully afraid a sneaky paparazzi would be lurking nearby, snapping away. And the last thing I needed, was to be pegged as What Willis Was Talkin About.
