The Story of the Scary Man

I have a note here that says “scrunchie.” What could I possibly have intended to write about scrunchies? Too bad the moment is gone.

I write stuff out and save it in draft and then later when I look at it, I can’t imagine why I thought I wanted to write about it.

For example, a couple of weeks ago a sketchy man followed me downtown.

I have run into all kinds of strange and interesting people, not just here but other places I’ve been, and this was the first time a person scared me.

I originally wrote out the sequence of events but I don’t think that’s very interesting now.

What is more interesting to me is that I felt bad about it afterward. I don’t want to be that person that freaks out because a stranger, who clearly has problems, talked to me.

But I also decided that you have to trust your gut. This man was aggressive and deep in my personal space. Also, his face was banged up so it was reasonable to assume he was capable of violence.

In the end, nothing bad happened. I ran into my office building and he wandered off to bother someone else.