I should get out more.

Do you think the man on 1st Street was offended today when I began rifling frantically through my bag, searching desparately for my pepper spray as soon as I caught a glimpse of him walking towards me?

I'm sorry, scary man. Really, I am. I wasn't trying to be rude. I'll admit that your appearance was a little bit intimidating. And the way you stomped down the street kind of frightened me. But what really got to me was that steady stream of expletives that would have made even the most seasoned hooker blush. Oh, and that poor man chasing you with a look on his face that said, "how did he escape AGAIN?" I want to thank you for easing my nerves though. I felt all my fears slip quietly away when you looked down at me with your big, bloodshot, puppy dog, three-day-bender eyes, grinned your toothless grin and kindly said, "hello." I hope we meet again sometime real soon. I regret not getting your number. We could be good friends!