Why do people keep giving me things?

I’ve been walking home for twenty minutes now. I live in a small town, one of them everybody knows everybody places. I know why I’m getting these things, but why I don’t know. And what am I supposed to do with them? Nearly three dozen eggs, ten loaves of bread, an entire box of fresh milk. This one woman even gave me a crockpot full of mashed potatoes. I keep telling everyone I’m just on my way home, but they keep giving me stuff. I’ve had to make three trips to get all of them to my house. <br><br>My Aunt Beth just stopped me on the sidewalk, and gave me a handbag full of fresh vegetables. I couldn’t identify half of them to be honest, but Aunt Beth has always been an avid gardener and I’m sure they’re just things she’s grown.<br><br>I’m on the last stretch now, my house in sight. I keep hoping I’m not going to have to turn around again. <br><br>My Aunt Karen just tossed me a bouquet of flowers.<br><br>I call out the window, “That’s very thoughtful Karen, but I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” Aunt Karen jogs up to me, concern written across her face. “Really? I thought you were getting married.”<br><br>My house is just a block away, but I feel exhausted by all of these trips. “To who?” I ask. “Really Karen? I don’t know.” My Aunt just pointed down the street. I turn, and there he is. A tall, muscular man with short, red hair and bright green eyes. He took one look at me, and he started running. I took one look at him and I started running. There’s an alley between my house and the neighbors, I dart through it.<br><br>I hear my Aunt screaming behind me, “Greg, bring her back!” I can’t let that happen. I continue to run, juking and jiving, attempting to lose him. If only I had kept running I would have been okay. I stopped running, but Greg hadn’t. We both hit the ground, I yelped as he landed on top of me. I looked up at him, and he looked quite upset.<br><br>“What have you done to yourself.” Nearly three decades of red hair, down the drain. I thought he would be angry, but this is more disappointment. “Why do you look upset Greg?” I ask.<br><br>“How am I supposed to marry a bald woman?” He asks.<br><br>I’m glad I shaved my head. “I have something to break to you Greg. I don’t know who you are.” Greg’s face turned red, I thought he was going to get mad, but he didn’t.<br><br>“Of course you don’t,” he said, “you’re a girl.”<br><br>I’ve struggled with this for years. “Greg, I have something to tell you, I’m a guy.” He stood up, brushing himself off.<br><br>“I know that,” he said, “I’m a guy too.” I struggled to my feet, I had to deal with this.<br><br>“Good,” I said, “well in that case Greg. I don’t know you.” Greg shook his head at me.<br><br>“You don’t even know my name.” He said. “Maybe if you did we’d have something to talk about.” I shook my head.<br><br>“I don’t know my own name.” Greg looked like he had been punched in the face.<br><br>“Goodbye,” I said as I walked away from him. He didn’t follow.