The Continuing Saga of Dr. Crazy Beard

As I mentioned recently, my friend - we'll call her "The Runner" - and I go to Starbucks multiple times a week. Every time we go, there's a group of doctors who are also there. One of them in particular (with facial hair that sticks out in every direction) has taken quite a shining to me and the last time we were there he decided to approach me about... my feet, because he was fascinated that I always wore flip-flops, and that they always matched what I was wearing.

Today, our relationship got a little more... deep.

Dr. Crazy Beard: *points to his shoes then his belt, both of which are the same color* "I made sure that my shoes and belt matched today for you."
Me: *jokingly* "Nice! I painted my toenails for you."
Dr. Crazy Beard: *his eyes light up and he comes rushing towards me* "You did really?!"
Me: "I mean... it's clear polish, but... uh... there still very shiny."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "They look great! They really do! So where do you guys work?" *he looks back and forth at my friend's and my pants* "I mean, I get to wear pajamas to work, but you guys... you wear jeans."
Me: "We're beer girls."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "What?" *he looks at me like I couldn't have just said what I did*
Me: "We're beer girls."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "You're... you're beer girls?"
Me: "Beer girls, yup. Tonight we're the Dos XX Girls. So, we'll go to a bar and giveaway free stuff, buy some beers, promote the product."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "Seriously?"
Me: "Yes."
The Runner: "That's not our real job. We work in contract manufacturing. I'm a buyer."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "You're a buyer? Do you buy people?"
The Runner: "I do. I'm into slave trade."
Dr. Crazy Beard: *clearly uninterested in her, he quickly refocuses his attention on me.* "And you?"
Me: "I'm a report maker. I... uh... I make reports."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "Well, that makes sense. If you're buying people and making reports, I guess you can wear jeans to work then."
Me: "And flip-flops, and have piercings and tattoos."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "That's true... your right arm. It's got vines and flowers on it, right?"
Me: *taken aback that he has remembered this very accurate detail about me* "Uh... yeah... apple blossoms. That's very observant!"
Dr. Crazy Beard: "Well, it's because I can see through your jacket. You also changed your nose ring today."
Me: "Ummmmmmmmm. I did, yes. It's, uh, y'know, a red stone now to match the red in the Dos XX logo for tonight. I told you: I'm a fashion icon."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "No doubt! Where will you be a beer girl tonight?"
Me: "Both Margaritas in Portland."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "I live in Portland. But I'll be in Freeport tonight."
Me: "There won't be girls there. I mean, there'll be girls. But not beer girls. But, hey, if you're in the area, you should come buy. We'll buy you a beer."
Dr. Crazy Beard: *still zoned in on me, ignoring The Runner* "You'll buy me a beer?!"
Me: "Well, I get paid to buy people beer. So, it's really not that big of a deal."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "I like the Most Interesting Man In the World."
Me: "Oh, well, he won't be there tonight."
The Runner: "But a cut-out of him probably will be."
Me: "We'll take a picture for you."
Dr. Crazy Beard: "Really? You'll show me next time? Great!"

Great indeed, Dr. Crazy Beard-who-I-stalked-a-little-online-and-found-out-that-you're-a-podiatrist-thus-explaining-yesterdays-foot-obsession! I think you can't figure me out and are intrigued as a result. Really, who wouldn't be?

Anyway... what the hell is going on here?!

And is it wrong that I kind of like these awkward run-ins we're having?

True story.

Further proof that fact is better than fiction!