Reasons why I need a keeper

Walking out of the building yesterday three men in a windowless van stopped
next to me in the parking lot. They were all wearing uniforms so of course I
blithely walked up to them when they rolled down the window asked if I could
help them find an address. Because nothing bad ever happens to lone women in
deserted parking lots that talk to strange men in windowless vans.
Thankfully they really were just soldiers that needed directions and I
walked away safe. But hit me when I was almost to my car that it hadn’t been
a good idea and that maybe they were some sort of mini gang of crazed
lunatics that just weren’t interested in portly, middle-aged women wearing a
ratty Batman t-shirt. (Honestly, who is?) They HAD acted kind of strange and
giggly for grown men and the one closest to me had looked at me funny then
wouldn’t make eye contact.
It wasn’t till I sat in my car and happened to catch a look at my face in
the mirror and realized it was covered in powdered doughnut sugar and that the
scab had come off the giant, gaping cold sore on my mouth when I was
devouring a doughnut like a wild animal and now the sore was caked with sugar
mixed with cold sore goo. Yep, seriously attractive. No wonder they let me
go. The last living member of the Donner Party wouldn’t have touched this.
It really is a mystery how I’ve made it this long without bigger calamities
happening.