No Show and Tell, No Gifts Please

A very large and smiling man is walking toward me on Grace Street. He stops as I approach.

Him: Hi, beautiful!
Me: Good morning.
Him: (in a sing-song voice) I have something to give you.
Me: (now fearing it will be a view of a body part) Oh, yea?
Him: (proudly) It's a dollar!
Me: (visibly relieved) No, no. But you have a nice day.
Him: I will because I saw your beautiful face.

Two blocks on, a guy stops his car in the middle of the Harrison and Grace intersection and calls out to me "Morning, gorgeous!" while pointing his index finger at me, gun-style. I smile in return, but he doesn't move the car until I'm halfway up the block. Horns are honking at him for doing this.

For the record, I am wearing yoga pants, a fleece and earmuffs. Earmuffs! I couldn't look any less beautiful or gorgeous.

Still, you have to appreciate the kind of guys who see what they want to see, whether it's there or not, and compliment strangers.

And I'll go right on thinking it's a good thing as long as all they do is talk to me.