Trainspotting...well not really

I am in the Metro stop waiting for my connecting train. Eleven minutes damn! So I lean against one of the walls, close my eyes and crank up the volume of my Ipod to listen to Common and his sexy song that you don’t realize is so sensual at first cuz it so old soul. So through the blasting bass it sounds like someone is trying to get my attention. I open my eyes and he repeats himself thrice because I can’t get the volume down quick enough.
“Work is rough huh? For the 4th time,” and for the first time I really look at him 'cause I’m done fiddling with my Ipod. Before me stands a forty odd or fifty odd year old man with a full head of soft, curly graying hair that is thinning on the top. He has big wide eyes, an egg-shaped head, vanilla skin, and thin lips. I’m picturing him, I don’t know if you can because the description may be generic. On with our story.
G: So what’s your name?
He says this while extending his hand. I usually give a firm handshake, but I don’t know him from Adam, I don’t know if he washes his hands after using the bathroom so I give him a three finger shake, but he grabs my other two. My annoyance fire has been stoked ever so gently.
G: So what are you doing this Sunday?
I stare at him blankly. Refusing to lie to someone I don’t know… he hasn’t earned the right of me trying to spare his feelings.
Me: Nothing I don’t have plans.
G: So how would you like to be having dinner with me this Sunday?
I respond in half a heartbeat, “No thanks.”
G: You are lying.
He sees my, “is you crazy, half cocked eyebrow look”.
G: You didn’t think about it. You answered too quick, maybe if you had waited 25 seconds I would have believed you.
Now I’m actually starting to enjoy the conversation, 9 minutes won’t seem so long after all.
Me: I think fast.
G: No one thinks that fast.
Me: Well I do.
He stares… and stares.
Me: What’s with the staring?
Mind you by American standards he’s in my personal space. He’s about 2 palm lengths away from my face. (Yes I know palm lengths is a silly measure)
G: I’m not staring. What is that? What is the definition? Can you tell me?
He says this with a mocking tone in his voice like I’m a hoodrat DC chick.
Me: It’s an unwavering, penetrating, unblinking look from one person to another. (Didn’t I say I think fast.)
G: That’s wrong.
Me: Do you have Webster’s dictionary on you? No. So you have no basis for saying its wrong.
G: Why are you judging me? How do you know what I do or do not have?
Me: I take a mental chill pill to keep from laughing and possibly triggering his psychotic break. So I take a breath and ask ever so sweetly, “Well do you?”
G: No
Me: Well ok then. (With authentic Countess Vaughn of The Parker’s head…twitching/nodding)
G: So why did you say no?
Me: I’m not in the market for new friends. I’m all maxed out in that dept. I’m straight.
G: No, that is not true. You are using your subjective mind instead of your objective…if you know the difference. Objective would have made you appreciate my approach, realized that I was genuine and made you accept my invitation. You let your subjective mind let your work and other stressors get in the way…like past relationships and experiences. You are letting these things influence you. You are on the delta level of lies and bitterness. You are closing yourself off when the best approach is to open up and move forward and let go of past experiences.
Me: Interesting.
G: No, not interesting! What I have told you is wisdom not interesting, can’t you see that? The wealth of what I’m saying….
Me: No it’s interesting.
G: No it is wisdom, I see what you cannot.
Me: To imply it’s wisdom means it’s fact. It’s only…….. your opinion.
My guy had walked off on me.
Damn. At least the train is here now, that was an entertaining 9 minutes. Now where was Common, “…Freaky like the daughter of a pastor. Said I was bait for her to master…. (Go)”