Just imagine a one such Eddie Munson making his annual trip to the mall for some ungodly reason (he'd rather choke on macaroni and cheese than be there longer than he has to be in all honesty) and sees you walking by with a soda and a single bag with your keys in your hand.
"Nice shirt." You were wearing a Metallica shirt that day. It was laundry day. Tuesdays are the bane of your existence for that reason.
"Thanks, babe." He stops dead in his tracks, forgetting what he'd even gone there for, and turns to watch you leave. He'd never forgive himself if he let you wander too far before asking your name.
So he streaks after you, meeting you at the door, and you smile at his pinked cheeks and inability to look you in the eye. You cross your arms and listen to his stuttering.
"Sid." You say, deciding to do the work for him.
"Eddie." He replies, looking like he was going to implode. Why? You had no idea, and neither did he.
Of course he asked if you actually liked Metallica or if it was your boyfriend's shirt (you knew he was trying to gage if you were single or not), and were pleasantly surprised he wasn't forcing you to name 5 songs by the band.
"It's mine, baby. Don't worry." He melted at the nickname he'd been unofficially given.
"I like your shirt, too. I've heard of the Hellfire Club. They're some good players." He smiled wider and felt prideful.
"You play?" You nod and he feels like he's won the jackpot.
"I know you're on your way out, but..wanna walk with me?"
You could say no and run into Eddie somewhere less infested with teenagers or you could say yes and get to know this strange being a little more.
"Sure." You smiled and turned, walking back into the mall with this stranger at a slower pace and talked about anything and everything.
Eddie Munson learned that day that the magic happens when you least expect it, but also sometimes going into the wrong entrance of the mall can be a good thing.
You learned that laundry day wasn't actually as bad as it seemed.