It appears that I look like a homeless person. And a dangerous one at that.
A few weeks ago I was on my way home from one of my evening classes. It was late-ish and I was standing on a street corner in a marginal part of town (not bad but not great either, though the transvestite/male prostitute part of town was only a half mile away), just minding my own business as I waited for the bus that would take me over the hill and back to my humble abode.
It was a cold night, so I was wearing my coat, gloves and scarf, all black – yes, we sometimes have need of such things in Southern California. I was also pulling my little rolling backpack, which always accompanies me on school days.
All of this is normal for me during the winter. But it seems that the coup de grace that pushes me into the “possibly scary person” category is the addition of a black knit cap with some sort of little design. Because as I waited for the bus, the traffic light at my corner turned red and cars stopped. I leaned out a bit to see if the bus was off down the road, whereupon I heard, from the late model sedan stopped in front of me, the distinct “click” of the door locks. Something I’ve never heard over the two and a half years of waiting at dark bus stops in marginal parts of town.
Let this be a lesson to y’all: ya wear a toque, ya look crazy dangerous.