I approached the counter at my favorite coffee shop earlier this morning, ready to place my order — I was BEYOND ready for my latte. I heard heavy footsteps walking up behind me, and then the person’s voice, “Hey girl! You going for a ride later?”
Confused, I turned to see a middle aged, scruff-faced man in a long dingy coat. He was pointing at my knee-high brown boots. I smiled politely. I didn’t really want to encourage this, because I already knew where the conversation was headed…
“You look like you’re about to hop on a horse and go for a ride!” I turned back to the barista, gave a half-smile and finished my order. The man in the coat interrupted, “Hey Ray, can I have one of those samples you got back there? What are those called?”
The barista told him they were Pumpkin Spice. “Ooooh,” he said, “well I’ll take one of those… and one of her. She looks like a spicy pumpkin, don’t she?”
The following three minutes consisted of me trying my best to avoid this guy, but failing miserably. He talked about how his dad always taught him to compliment the ladies because they like to know they look pretty, how he prefers when people put sour cream in potato salad (I know, it was random), and how Grey Poupon tastes “magical”.
When I finally had my coffee in hand and was practically running out the door, he yells after me, “I like you! You should be my roommate.”
And that’s how I was hit on by a homeless guy.