08 September 2011

In the Dark of the Night...

One night, I was walking home from the subway after a fabulous evening of drinking and drag queens. I live in an area of Brooklyn that isn't particularly sketchy itself, but right on the boundary of a sketchy neighborhood. It was about 3:00 AM, and although nothing scary has ever happened to me, it was natural to be on my guard.

Shortly after I turned the corner onto my block, I heard somebody behind me say something. I had my headphones on, but turned them down in case I heard my death sentence. I didn't dare take them off though; I can't plead ignorance that way. The guy behind me shouted a couple more things that I could not interpret, and I kept walking.

Before I knew it, he was walking side-by-side with me. Damn, the fucker means business. He was the type of person that you would expect to run into at this hour in Brooklyn: African-American, baggy clothes, a little disheveled. He seemed friendly though, so I endured him.

He said "I've been hollerin' at you from way back there!"
"Sorry," I said. "Music was loud, couldn't hear you."
He made small talk, asked me how my night was, etc. I was both excited and nervous: excited that I was so close to home and wouldn't have to keep up the conversation much longer, but nervous because he would definitely see where I lived. I still couldn't tell what his intentions were. Was he going to rob me? Was he trying to pick me up? What was his deal? People like this don't usually talk to me.

We finally got to the door, and I said "Well, this is me! Gotta go!"
"How can I get in contact witchu?" he asked. I froze. Why would he even want to contact me. I hate putting people down in general, but there was no way in hell I was giving this guy my number. In my panic, I just said "Uh...sorry" and shut the door.

For about a month after, I was doubly cautious when coming home at night, or even during the day, just because I was terrified of bumping into this guy again. It's never happened *knock on wood* but I'm not even sure I would know him again if I saw him, or if he would know me.

Lesson Learned: Rejecting people never feels good, but it's better than some sketchy guy you met on the street having your phone number.


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