Forays into Creepiness
Jul. 23rd, 2004 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexmegamiOkay, so I had one of the weirder, creepier moments of my life on the bus yesterday...
I usually sleep on the bus. Or, at least, I close my eyes and try to; it's an hour-long trip, and I have nothing to do 90% of the time.
This sometimes creates problems: the bus drivers, having obviously failed driving school, will often brake rapidly, sending me pitching left or right, and then I have to wake up, right myself, and go back to sleep (or try to).
So yesterday, this has happened once again. I sit up, right myself, and the guy next to me says, "Sleepy?" in a really heavy accent.
Not one to be rude to random strangers, I say, "Yes."
Brief description: this guy is dressed in a polo shirt and purple pants that may once have been blue. He's about 30-35, dark-skinned, dark hair.
He proceeds to talk at me for a minute or two - nothing weird, just random questions. I answer shortly but politely, and finally hunker to go back to sleep. We're about 15 minutes from the transit centre. I wake back up again briefly, and he starts talking to me again, and says, "You're very beautiful."
Now this guy is hitting my weird buttons, and so I shut down conversation and don't go back to sleep (though I feign it). I'm pretty sure he's looking at my boobs at this point.
At five minutes from the transit centre, I start collecting my stuff up. He starts talking to me again, sharing fairly personal information - he's coming from Toronto and visiting his family, et cetera, et cetera. His questions to me are also getting more personal, and at this point I'm starting to tell half-truths: I live in Waterloo, I'm just going to Brampton for fun, and so on.
Finally, just before the bus reaches the station, he asks me if I'm married. I say "no" incredulously, but that goes straight over his head and he offers up that he isn't either. The bus stops and I say goodbye, walk over to the payphones next to the transit centre, and call Dad to come pick me up as per usual.
I thought that was the end of it, but a minute later, as I'm waiting in the transit centre (for the express purpose of being near people - this guy was starting to creep me out, and I wasn't taking chances), he comes up to me and says, "Can I ask you a question?"
(Yes, I should have said no.) "Okay."
"Will you marry me?" Completely earnestly, too.
"NO."
"Why not?"
(I did not say, "because I'm not in the habit of marrying creepy old men from the bus!", but I should have.) "Because I'm too young to get married."
"Nooo, how old are you?"
"Nineteen!" (Should have said 17.)
"I'm only 25..."
"I don't believe that."
He left me alone after that, though I heard him asking some girl behind me a minute later. I wanted to ask if that was normal behaviour where he came from, but I'd already mentally slotted him as retarded/brain damaged/other and I didn't want to start interacting with him again.
My parents, loving and caring that they are, said only "he was probably an illegal immigrant trying to gain citizenship". Oh, and that I should tell Patrick that I had accepted.
Thanks, that was ever-so-comforting.
I usually sleep on the bus. Or, at least, I close my eyes and try to; it's an hour-long trip, and I have nothing to do 90% of the time.
This sometimes creates problems: the bus drivers, having obviously failed driving school, will often brake rapidly, sending me pitching left or right, and then I have to wake up, right myself, and go back to sleep (or try to).
So yesterday, this has happened once again. I sit up, right myself, and the guy next to me says, "Sleepy?" in a really heavy accent.
Not one to be rude to random strangers, I say, "Yes."
Brief description: this guy is dressed in a polo shirt and purple pants that may once have been blue. He's about 30-35, dark-skinned, dark hair.
He proceeds to talk at me for a minute or two - nothing weird, just random questions. I answer shortly but politely, and finally hunker to go back to sleep. We're about 15 minutes from the transit centre. I wake back up again briefly, and he starts talking to me again, and says, "You're very beautiful."
Now this guy is hitting my weird buttons, and so I shut down conversation and don't go back to sleep (though I feign it). I'm pretty sure he's looking at my boobs at this point.
At five minutes from the transit centre, I start collecting my stuff up. He starts talking to me again, sharing fairly personal information - he's coming from Toronto and visiting his family, et cetera, et cetera. His questions to me are also getting more personal, and at this point I'm starting to tell half-truths: I live in Waterloo, I'm just going to Brampton for fun, and so on.
Finally, just before the bus reaches the station, he asks me if I'm married. I say "no" incredulously, but that goes straight over his head and he offers up that he isn't either. The bus stops and I say goodbye, walk over to the payphones next to the transit centre, and call Dad to come pick me up as per usual.
I thought that was the end of it, but a minute later, as I'm waiting in the transit centre (for the express purpose of being near people - this guy was starting to creep me out, and I wasn't taking chances), he comes up to me and says, "Can I ask you a question?"
(Yes, I should have said no.) "Okay."
"Will you marry me?" Completely earnestly, too.
"NO."
"Why not?"
(I did not say, "because I'm not in the habit of marrying creepy old men from the bus!", but I should have.) "Because I'm too young to get married."
"Nooo, how old are you?"
"Nineteen!" (Should have said 17.)
"I'm only 25..."
"I don't believe that."
He left me alone after that, though I heard him asking some girl behind me a minute later. I wanted to ask if that was normal behaviour where he came from, but I'd already mentally slotted him as retarded/brain damaged/other and I didn't want to start interacting with him again.
My parents, loving and caring that they are, said only "he was probably an illegal immigrant trying to gain citizenship". Oh, and that I should tell Patrick that I had accepted.
Thanks, that was ever-so-comforting.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 06:12 pm (UTC)My family makes fun of me when I get hit on by weird random people. Of course, the only random people that hit of me are weird...so..^^
And it's usually on the bus...really, has anyone ever found love on a bus? ^^
no subject
Date: 2004-07-24 12:02 pm (UTC)How about me?
(shhh... don't tell Simon!)
Re: How about me?
Date: 2004-07-23 08:38 am (UTC)Hey!
Date: 2004-07-23 10:20 am (UTC)I came here to leave a sincere comment of some kind, but now I've conveniently forgotten what it was.
It was probably something along the lines of, "You seem to have the best of luck with people randomly hitting on you," or, "Your parents were probably right about the illegal immigrant thing, though telling people they just interacted with an illegal immigrant is no way of comforting people."
Or, "I had to laugh when you said he was staring at your boobs."
Re: Hey!
Date: 2004-07-23 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 07:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:15 am (UTC)Are you going to be able to sleep on the bus again?
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:48 am (UTC)But you are not a completely random stranger ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 08:52 am (UTC)I mean, in this case, it's way more "creepy" than "outright horrifying and probably dangerous, 'cause you can TELL my sister's underage" so spitting nails might not be the best response, but, nuh? *sighs*
Hope you're doing all right. And that Toronto ain't usually like that.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:04 am (UTC)I'd have gone for a different first response than laughing, at least. ;P Spitting nails, no, but at least something other than giggling like schoolchildren.
It's not even Toronto proper! I live in freaking suburbia! Toronto ain't usually like that, at least not from my experience...
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:08 am (UTC)Yuck. Well, hopefully 'twon't happen again. *sticks out tongue* And if you need someone with a pair of scissors and too much righteous indignation, give me a call. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:33 am (UTC)That did cross my mind, though. Or maybe I should have said I was looking to become a nun.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 09:47 am (UTC);p
Date: 2004-07-23 08:24 pm (UTC)Re: ;p
Date: 2004-07-24 12:06 pm (UTC)