Human Shield

I have been stalked by an undesirable bachelor for some time. Before any of you say, "Oh, just give him a chance," be aware that it is no one's idea of a good time to be alone with a stranger who, I suspect, is mentally unhinged. 

He had managed to finagle an invitation to a neighbor's house, and that Shabbos I could see him from my spot in the shul's ladies section. At some point, his host, a true romantic, gestured to him my vague vicinity behind the thankfully obscure barrier. 

I watched in horror as he batted his lashes, goofily grinned, and preened embarrassingly at the lacy curtain that divided the men from the women, unaware that his histrionics were more accurately aimed in Ma's direction on my left rather than myself. 

It was time to bail. 

"Sweetie," I cooed to my niece on my right, "would you like to go home?" I had dragged her to shul pretty early, and her 9-year-old stamina was feeling rather put-upon by my orders of standing, sitting, standing again, amein, amein, amein, but she decided to be noble. 

"I don't mind either way." 

Shoot. "No, babycakes, if you want to go back, I have no problem taking you." 

"Really, I can stay." 

No more sugarcoating. "Get up. I need to to leave and I'm using you as an excuse. I'll tell you more on the way home."

Just in case he lay in wait, I peered ahead into the hallway, then made a run for it, my niece trotting in my wake. When we were a safe distance from our place of worship I told her all the details.

 

Nothing thrills a young girl like the confidences of a dating adult. She giggled delightedly as I told her of my repellant suitor, and for weeks later happily brought it up. 

I let her. She deserves a bonus for being my exit plan.