B, that's yo friend...

Aight, if some random (homeless) brotha comes up to you claiming to be my friend... don't believe him. I don't know that mayn! I know his face, and apparently he knows mine. Let's back up though, cus it seems today was the day!! I don't know what category the day goes into, nor am I sure if I can even say "good day/bad day" it's just an astoundingly extra day.
I opened this morning. Meaning I was out at 6AM jammin' some Erykah Badu, Ab and Glenn Lewis. I surprisingly made it into work on time (cus I was starting to support a punctuality stereotype) and went to my zone. The first person I assist today is an elderly European male. Correction, I assumed he was European because he got real close to me when he spoke. I guess I made him feel very comfortable in the 54secs. "You are a very handsome young man. Has anyone told you that lately? Well, you probably hear it all the time," he said. I began to sheepishly nod. "But not today," he closed. To which I replied "Thank you," and departed stage right.
Then there was lunch. If you had told me there was a sign on my forehead "Up for it!" I would have been more comfortable. I'm thinking, surely I have a boog. A massive boog is breakdancing in my nose while Dave Chappelle plays rhymes "Spaghetti" behind me. Surely that would explain the man who sat down right across from me at lunch and proceeded to stare me down through his shades. IF YOU'RE GOING TO STARE SOMEONE DOWN, GET DARK SHADES. I SEE YOU. I will assume the person he was on the phone with was female though. Just to make it more as if I was trippin'. You know how you just kind of stare when ur on the phone but aren't conscious of where your eyes trespass. I could have given him that, until he hung up the phone. HE KEPT STARING. You ever figure that you'll just look someone dead in the eye til they look away, but they don't for a long time, so y'all are just locked looking at one another. That was my lunch.
But wait... there's more.
I'm happy cus I'm going home. Take the train back to my stop, and I'm coming out of the station and I see this homeless cat that I seen around town a good number of times. Usually I wave at him, cus I'm from Texas and he acts like I didn't. Today, I didn't even see him til I was almost out the door and he says "Hey don't I know your face from some where?" I'm thinking, 'you know my face from everywhere dude, I see you ALL-THE-TIME.' He's goes on into his act, "yeah, where do I know you from?" I pop off like three places waiting for him to ask me for a few dollars, which I actually had today, and was ready to give him. He asks me if I stay around here I say, "yeah". He says "Where?" [Creepy]. I give him a vague answer. He says "Yeah, what street?" [Creepier]. I give him the name of the main street I live off, trying not to lie. "What street number?" [Fuck it, I'm lying.] I don't remember. "You don't remember your street number?" he asks, not trying to hide the condescending inflection in his voice; as if I'm a dumb-ass. "When are you home?" [I shift my weight subtly into fighting stance.] "I can't really say, I changes a lot." Which is true. Though I'm thinking, ok, so he's trying to figure out when I'm not there so he can go rob me. He asks if I'm home on Mondays. "Again it changes a lot, so sometimes I am sometimes I'm not." The correlation from the previous answer seemed to escape him. "Do you have a phone there?" Nah. "Do you go to church?" he asked. 'Whew. Ok, you're a religious-crazy-person. I don't mind y'all,' I thought. I tell him how I somewhat go. He asks "Where?" [Pseudo-creepy]. I reply that "It's online." "Ohhhh..." he almost caught on. "What's your phone number?" I gave him my number. I think he miswrote it but oh well. "Do you practice abstinence?" he blurts out. 'Muphucka I don't know you,' I think, but tell him the answer. Why? I figure I don't know him so what does it matter. "You watch porn?" Ha ha ha. He's not ready for that answer. I fudge it to make me seem 'normal'. "What kinda of porn do you watch?" Truthfully, I let him know that I were I to watch I'd watch Black porn. His sixty-nine questions ain't up. He asks if I masturbate, JUST as this cute woman passes. Neither are ready for the real answer, so I fudge it. "Do you have a girl," he asked in an almost endearing-creepy way. WTF? Is he trying to set me up w/ someone now? Is this the Crackhead Love Connection? And why were his fingers greasy?! [Creeptacular.] I answered truthfully. He asked if we knock it down, I giggled out a modest version answer. Ain't nobody ready for that one. In fact, unread that. Now. Nower!! So then went back to the "tell me where u live?" and me responding vaguely trade-offs. Then he asked where I worked, I told him truthfully. Why should I care, we got security guards. Plus by now I got the impression that he was going to forget all of this in the next 10mins anyway. Seeing that he had already forgotten all of my original half-truths. This bell-curve of extra came down to me excusing myself for some business that didn't exist. He promised he would call though. You could say I looked back longingly at him as I left or was making sure I was the ass-whooping was cocked and ready.
Romeo oh Romeo, I would beat yo ass but you might like it Romeo.

Anyway, it seems I transcend class and genders now. Superstar!!
Peas in the middle.