I was accosted last night...

Okay, perhaps not accosted so much I was engaged in friendly conversation with a stranger that verged on being accosted. Had it been any other night, had I not still been slightly buzzed and had I not been disappointed by the tedium of the All-Stars game (which I am now told, after the fact, is typical for such exhibitionist affairs), I probably would have felt quite threatened and perhaps violated.

But for once, I decided to put my fears and prejudices aside about strangers at bus stops. Plus this fellow sure knew how to lay down his game. When a conversation beings with:

1) Hello there, you are beautiful (said in not the least way creepy).
2) Why don't you have a boyfriend coming to pick you up?

You can't help but smile a little bit inward and outward and entertain the idea of conversing with a stranger at a bus stop.

And that's what happened.

Those who know me may be slightly shocked. I never talk to strangers at bus stops unless they're old women, and even then, I'm able to find suspicion in all old women. And I certainly don't talk to young rascalian looking fellows on a Tuesday night at 9:30. But I did and it wasn't awful. I asked him if he was going to the city, he told me he wasn't, but was going to Richmond to pick up his 5 year old nephew. I asked him what was on his colorful shirt, he told me it was his cousin who was killed 12 months ago and whose nephew he was headed out to pick up. He told me I was beautiful and I said thank you, then shook my hand, hugged me, kissed me on the cheek and went his merry way.

It was a rather odd turn of events, which certainly had the potential to go in the worst direction possible as my worst case scenario thinking is going on in my head. I also attribute this little experience to my complete inability to master the urban scowl with any level of competence. But nothing bad happened and a nice man told me I was beautiful. So hear hear to that.