I need a doctor. Can you recommend someone to remove my freak magnet?

This blog may not be for the squeamish or the weak. No, it won't involve gore or actual violence. No one died in the making of this blog. But it can be said that anyone who has been stalked, has a fear of being stalked or knows someone who's met someone creepy may find their skin crawling by the end.

Here's the scene. It's a sunny Saturday in central Arkansas. I'm planning to pay homage to the mild weather by grilling steaks and enjoying fresh vegetables. I head out to the Kroger, a chain grocery story popular in the mid-south, dressed in a long-sleeved Diesel t-shirt, some Lucky jeans and my trusty flip-flops.

I'm in the produce section when a man I peg as 40ish strolls by with his cart. He gives me the upstairs/downstairs and then stops, backs up a step, leers at me and says "This is my favorite time of year - when toes come out of hibernation. I love seeing pretty feet on a pretty lady."

Inside, I can feel myself cringe. However, my father taught me young the art of graciously accepting a compliment. So I make the tragic mistake of smiling and saying nothing more than "thank you." The "gentleman" (we'll use that term loosely) walks away. About two minutes later, as I'm perusing the selection of fresh fruit, he returns.

Before I can utter a single word, he says "I'm sorry if I offended you a minute ago. It's just that I have a foot fetish. I really love feet and yours are nice."

Without waiting for me to respond and barely taking a breath himself, he plows forward, saying "I don't know if you're in to toe rings, but I know this woman in Greenbrier. She makes fitted toe rings, custom to you. But the thing about a fitted toe ring? The only way to get them off is to suck them off...."

And THEN........... "I'd be more than happy to suck your toes for you...."

EXCUSE ME? What? You have GOT to be kidding me. Did you REALLY just offer to SUCK MY TOES????

I had to turn away to keep from dry heaving onto the strawberries. I could barely hold my composure long enough to say "I'm sorry, I'm not interested." I wanted to punch him in the throat with a pomegranate but we've discussed my belief that I'm too pretty for prison, so I restrained myself.

He gives me a bit of a huff and leaves. I'm so flustered right now that I can't really continue shopping. Produce is the first section in Kroger and I don't really have it in me to carry on. I grab a few various sundry items and head for the self checkout, desperate to just get out of the store. I'm hopeful I have a full hot water tank at home because I feel the overwhelming urge to take a shower akin to the one in the movie "Crying Game."

I am partway through scanning my items when I realize that he's back! He stalks up to me and loudly says "You know, if you don't want people to proposition you, you really shouldn't dress up to come to the Kroger!"

First, isn't "proposition" a word usually reserved for johns being featured on Cops during prostitution ring busts? And more importantly, where on God's green earth does jeans and flip-flops constitute as dressing up????

I actually asked the poor kid working the check out lanes to push my basket to my car - and I only had two bags of food!

So I ask you - can anyone recommend a good M.D.? It seems that my freak magnet is back and stronger than ever. I'm seeking a way to have it removed!