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A smelly old guy who thinks he's a rock star, shoving his hands down your shirt while pretending he just tripped over a kid. He’s everywhere, parades, elevators, and lunchrooms. He’s like a greasy meatball in a suit.
He bumped into me at the parade and didn’t stop touching my back until I screamed.
He squeezed my shoulder on the elevator and said, 'You’re my lucky charm.'
He grabbed my arm at lunch and whispered, 'You’re my new favorite.'