Get under my skin, why don't you

I admit it. There are a lot of things that irritate me. For the most part, I'm pretty laid back and, well, meh. But for those who know me best know I'm easily irritated. One of the things that has been getting on my nerves lately are those guys that walk around asking you if you want them to do some body work. Insert clever pun here. They're always dirty, transient looking type men. Granted, they're out trying to make a decent living rather than taking the easy way out on a street corner, but really? I'm not going to pay a man that comes into my shop at 9 p.m. on a friday night asking if that's my Honda out there. "I can do body work right now. Sixty dollars", he says. There has been an onslaught of these propositions as of late. Every where I go, every where I turn, there they are. The most recent ambush was yesterday afternoon while I was at the Auto Zone buying a new battery. I was standing by the registers awaiting the return of my knight in shining armor, aka the man switching out my battery, when an unkempt foreign man, while perusing a hunting magazine, shouted at me from across the store. "Hey, is that your Honda out there?", he asked in broken English. Yes, I replied, that was my car. "You want, I do body work. Real fast, I fix it." I thanked him kindly and told him I didn't have any money for that. He gave me an odd look and went back to reading his magazine, but not without mumbling under his breath in some undecipherable language, probably bad mouthing me. He then put the magazine back on its rack, shot me a dirty look and stormed out of the store. I mean, really? He's going to play it like that? THAT is NO way to get good business. He really ground my gears.

The other thing that has been playing my grumpy chord is people that don't know what personal space is. A woman, tellingly drunk, waltzed into the shop. She rambled on about how she kind of sort of wants a tattoo and/or piercing, but wasn't sure what. It was slow and I was bored of cleaning, so I chatted with her a bit. She then noticed my unfinished quarter sleeve on my left arm. She walked up to me and before I could move away, she reached out and started STROKING MY ARM! I know, I call for attention with all my adornments, but that does not in any way shape or form mean that I want strangers, probably with dirty hands, touching me. She literally stroked my arm with BOTH hands. Up and down and all around. Ick. I get nauseous just thinking about it. Don't people KNOW about the bubble? "Come one, come all! But ladies and gentlemen, please DO NOT touch the Incredible Tattooed Woman! She is very tempermental and may bite your arm off! I repeat, DO NOT touch the circus freaks!"