Rob first noticed the stranger by the coffee machine when he stood up for a quick stretch. The man was wearing the most casual clothing available, and he was drinking a coffee without a care in the world.

Rob sat back down. He gave his monitor a careful look, scanned the tropical cutouts across his cubicle wall, drummed his fingers on the desk, and then stood up again. The man had not moved. He was gazing coolly from his seat at the bustling office workers, and the busy atmosphere had no influence on him. Why was he here?

After another hour, Rob began to grow nervous. The man had certainly been staring at him earlier. Finally, Rob consulted Bill from across the aisle.

"Hey Bill," he hissed.

Bill stuck his fat, bald head out from behind his wall.

Rob gave him a secretive look. "Who's that man over there by the coffee machine? He's giving me the creeps."

Bill took a moment, then stood up and stretched as Rob had originally done. When he sat back down, he did so with a chuckle. "Now Rob, are you having any jitters about meeting your deadlines? Because Mr. Lafoy should not be looking too creepy if you're on his good side."

"No, I'm not talking about Lafoy. The other man. The one sitting in the chair by the coffee machine!"

"There's a chair by the coffee machine?" asked Bill. He laughed. "Putting a chair by the coffee machine would just be asking for slackers. Maybe they put it there as bait!" He chortled mightily at this and then disappeared back into his cubicle.

Rob frowned. Then he decided that since he'd already used the stretching excuse, he would now 'go to the bathroom'. He got up and began to make his way down the aisle towards the man.

He was halfway down the aisle when the man looked up. Rob froze. They had made perfect eye contact. The man's eyes bore into his for an entire second and then, in a sudden motion, the man bolted to his feet and began to run for the exit. Rob's eyes went wide, and he recognized that some secret was going on over his head.

Whatever game was being played, Rob was losing, because his opponent was getting away. Without letting the office conformity slow his limbs, he leaned into a soft-footed run.

As he wheeled into the hall, the loud metal door to the stairs slammed shut. He sprinted to the end of the hall, bursting into the cement stairwell with a clang. He skittered to a stop, heard the rapid clip-clapping of shoes on the stairs below him, and then took the stairs four at a time.

He began to gain on the mysterious runaway by the time they were at the second floor, but the man did not slow until he reached the underground parkade. And then he was through the final door and racing off between the silent vehicles. Rob was right behind him though, and he kicked off his stupid dress shoes as he ran--kicked them off just as he kicked into first gear. He had been a track star in high school, and had always won the impromptu races.

And then, just like that, the man stopped running. He put one hand on a knee, and the second in the air to stop Rob. "Stay back!" the man said, hiding his face behind his arm as he stared at the floor.

Rob didn't know what to say. Sorry I chased you seven floors down an office building? It wasn't the most appropriate way to start the conversation.

"Why were you running?" he asked.

The man stumbled a few steps back. "Stop!" he cried.

Rob had not moved. "I'm not coming any closer to you," he said softly. "Now tell me what's going on."

"Stop talking to me!" the man cried, leaning now against a cement column.

Rob was taken aback. "Excuse me?" he asked. "Why? I only want to know why you were running. I chased you more out of a spontanteous curiosity than anything."

"He cannot be talking to me..." the man breathed heavily to himself.

Rob was offended. "You cannot act as if I am not here," he said. "I want some explanation. Don't treat me like I'm invisible."

"You're not invisible!" the man cried, standing up straight and confronting Rob, now with an urgent tone. "Do you...?" he asked, "Do you work here?"

"Yes," Rob said.

"Why?"

Rob cracked a grin. "I don't have an f***ing clue," he said.

The man found no cause for humor. He was still dead serious. "But you chased me."

"Only because you ran."

"But you looked at me funny."

"I did not! You looked at me funny!"

"But you looked at me first!"

"Who cares?" asked Rob. He was beginning to think he should have stayed at work. "Listen," he said. "Why don't you carry on from here and don't worry about who looked at who. I have to go back to work. I'm sorry I chased you...and...I'm sorry I looked at you."

The man was slightly reassured. "Thank you," he said. "But don't do it again."

"I...won't," Rob said slowly. "Next time, if you randomnly show up in my office building only to drink coffee, I'll just pretend you're invisible."

The man nodded once and then took off again, his hurried footsteps hardly making a sound on the smooth floor.

Rob was left in amazement. What a psycho. The man was surely losing it.

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Sily, she knew, but she enjoyed the Christmas spirit nonetheless, and it made her feel cheery.

excerpt from Invited to Christmas Dinner   by cheshiregrin