ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?!?

So I'm pretty sure that spring brings all the freaks out from under the porches they reside under.  What I don't understand is why the hell do they have to talk to me?

I'm out mailing some letters today, enjoying a beautiful sunny afternoon and decided to go to a local coffee establishment for their frozen cappuccino treat to reward myself for being awesome.

The local coffee watering hole is, unfortunately, infested with the crème de la crème of small town Ontario royalty.  The heroin chic, three-toothed,  tattooed "gangsta's" (aka baby daddies) with their baggie shorts and showing stained underwear waist bands, tramp tatted hosebags wearing strapless tops with bras that aren't (I shit you not I'll take pictures next time), all standing around smoking cigarette's and drinking coffee that my hard earned tax dollars have provided for them.  This is only a slightly more disturbing scene than the winter version where they're all wearing hoodies and flannel pyjama pants.

The other day when I walked over, dressed in my business clothes (dressed as an adult, unlike these stellar representatives of their demographic) as usual, I was auditorily assaulted by the mating call of the white trash scrouts, "Hey baby" complete with teeth sucking.  Buddy I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, and if it wasn't for the meth clinic at the drug store on Wednesdays, you'd be crystal meth tweaking in a ditch somewhere so piss off.  And oh yeah, you make me soooo hot clicking at me like I'm a horse.  This is exuded through my body language and not actually said out loud as they are pack minded and could physically attack if provoked so I ignore them.

Today I am walking back from the post box, huge sunglasses on and striding determinedly down the street when some over dressed skinny tweaker shuffles up to me and asks if he can buy a smoke. "I don't smoke." I say, not breaking stride.

He trots to keep up with me and starts mumbling on about the weather this week, I completely ignore him and  he finds another person to bother for a moment as he buys a cigarette off another dude.  How do I know this you ask? Well because he purposely caught up with me to share his excitement and bounty over the recently purchased pollutant.  I continue to ignore him and seriously consider pushing him into oncoming traffic.  He has that psycho look in his eye that pyromaniacs get when they see matches.

I have no idea what made this guy think that I wanted a conversation with him, but I think he had other issues and couldn't read my fuck-off-it's-you-not-me body language.

I'm uncertain as to what I need to do to be less approachable.  I walk incredibly quickly, don't make eye contact, wear sunglasses, refuse to acknowledge street freaks, and yet they still are drawn to me like flies to....honey. (Piss off, I know where you were going).

I'm open to suggestion as to how to discourage interactions with other of the human race. Maybe I need to get a hip holster and start packing, or carry pepper spray in my hand (actually, a summons would be better for keeping them away).

Maybe I'm just in a bad mood because I'm stuck inside all day instead of at the beach, or need a nap or a snack. Or some Midol.  Maybe I'm just a bitch.  That one's more likely.

I should probably take into consideration that these people haven't have the opportunities that I have and are doing the best they can with the hand they've been dealt.  I should be more compassionate and accommodating and pleasantly smile and nod at the crazies, but not encourage long conversation with them.  After all, they likely normally don't have anyone other than the multitudes of voices in their heads to talk too and a new, outside voice is a blessing for them.  I probably shouldn't judge people by my own yard stick (one of my personal favourite comments that I use regularly with others). I should donate my time and money to services and charities which help people who have nothing better to do than stand outside of coffee shops all day instead of working for a living or getting an education (oh wait, I already pay taxes).

Maybe I should just use the drive through window.

Happy Spring!

Mel