I turn and look at the lumbering kid approaching me.
“I lost my phone number…Can I have yours!”
“No.” An instant, knee-jerk response flies out of my mouth as I turn a cold shoulder.
I realize a few seconds later that I may have been a little harsh, but let’s break it down:
Do not call me “ma’am” if you want to hit on me. I know I look young, and you probably don’t know that I’m 10 years older than you are, but I know. And really? You call the girls “ma’am”?
Do not attempt to pick me up at 8 AM when it’s 46 degrees.
Don’t expect to get my phone number while I’m at a bus stop on Mission Street outside your Welfare to Work program.
And no, I don’t think you’re funny.
I won’t think you’re funny at noon on a warm sunny day either, but I might be more polite about it. Please make a note.