I am pretty sure Aveda has a crush on me.

A million years ago, before Big Dude and Little Dudes and mortgages and bulldogs, I went to lunch a couple of times with a good-lookin' tall guy from work. Putting aside the facts that he lived with his mother and had a dead-end job (it was just my summer job, it was his fate career) he was a decent fella. He had a sweet car, was very polite, listened to good music, liked beer, smelled good. All positives to a 22-year-old me. Here's what was wrong with him: He gave me stuff all the time.

I know what you're thinking. "AHA! Proof! Women never like the nice guys! They want the bad boy!" Yeah, well, no, that's not it. This guy was the King of Creepy Gifts. For example, we went to lunch, the next day he bought me a hat.

A hat.  Because apparently all the flower stores were closed? Where do you even go to buy a hat? And what makes you think..."That temporary file girl at the office sure is cute. In fact, the only way she'd be cuter is with a black felt fedora! To the mall!"

We went to lunch again. I had boots on my desk.  Because? He wanted me to know that he knew my shoe size. Uh huh.

We went to lunch with a big group of people, he found a way to be smooshed into a back seat with me where he pointed out the church he'd like us to be married in. Yeah. He did.

Eventually, I lost my appetite and stopped going to lunch with him. I received a Victoria's Secret box. To entice me to go to Burger King, I guess?  I returned it, unopened, to his car, all the while holding my keys sticking out of my fist just in case he jumped out from under the car with a gift-wrapped toaster.

Fortunately, the summer ended and I got to move back to school 90 miles away. Unfortunately, he asked someone where I lived and they told him. (Thanks, HR Department!) When I rode up on my bike with a group of friends and saw him sitting on my porch he asked why I wasn't driving, and who were all these people?

I explained loudly that he gave me the creeps and I'd like him to leave and that my car wasn't running just then.

I then double locked my doors, asked him to be gone when I got back and rode off to find my biggest, largest, male-est friends.

When I got back, there was a tear-stained letter and a check for $1800. Because that's all he had, and he wanted me to buy a car with it. (And I'm totally not kidding, he either cried or spit all over it, because it was all warpy and wrinkly like it'd been wet.)

Why now, do I bring up this freak-tale while I live happily with dudes of all sizes, a mortgage and a bulldog? Because I was reminded of this gifty-stalky guy today. Much like innocently going to lunch with a cute guy, I innocently ordered Aveda product online. I got suckered in. It looked good, I like how it smells, I hate the damned mall. I figure, what's a non-committal online order gonna do?

And then Aveda began it's creepy genuflection. I ordered shampoo. Aveda offered a free sample of conditioner. I ordered conditioner, Aveda wanted me to try extra infused deep treatment FREE. I put in the special offer code for free shipping... suddenly there were three other free gifts in my basket.  By the time I was done, I had SEVEN free gifts, and when I checked my email and read the order confirmation, I had two more waiting for me.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the cute little bottles and will more than likely use each and every one of them. But you might wanna try playing hard-to-get once in awhile, Aveda, or you might find yourself crying all alone on the steps of a hastily built condo someday wondering WHY oh WHY I don't love you back.