One Saturday night last September, I patronized a business that I regularly patronized, and suddenly came to the realization, "It's on." Specifically, that I would have to field "psycho-flirtations" from employees of this business and try to figure out where this attention was coming from and what is was about. I cannot tell one how frightening this prospect seemed to me, because my mental illness causes me to doubt my perceptions of this kind of attention in the first place. Not only did I have to figure out whether this stuff was for real or not, I had to make an intelligent decision about a young woman that all of this attention was "about."
Unlike "normal" people, I have to fight for my right to patronize a restaurant, coffee shop, grocery store or any place I regularly go because I am different. It seems as if all I have to do is talk a little about myself to a waitress or barista or some such, and people consider that sufficient provocation to pay a kind of attention to me that I don't like.
I treat it like a civil rights issue; it's as if I'm a black man in the Jim Crow South. I try to assert through my actions and manner and overall behavior my right to patronize said business. As long as I don't bother anyone and I conduct myself in a appropriate manner, I should be able to patronize the above mentioned kinds of places without anyone bothering me.
With that in mind, I try to refrain from having love interests in the form of employees of the above-mentioned businesses. I don't want to be seen as someone who has an agenda other than the one I mentioned. It undermines my civil rights goals.