The Consequences of Saying Hello

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Originally uploaded by kafkas_undies.

I guess I can’t complain. After all, it was my idea to take off my headphones. And that’s where the trouble slash hilarity started. I was passing by a house that I often pass. On foot. Jesus lives there. Lately, there has also been a pair of men hanging on the porch. Well, not actually hanging – more like sitting. (Because that’s what people do on porches, mostly.)

Anyway, I always make a point of saying hello to these gentlemen. Why? Because they’re not part of Maine’s trailer trash fat-toothless constituency and that’s refreshing. Also, when I walk by, I am about three feet away from the pair by way of a sidewalk. As such, cultural courtesy encourages an exchange of greetings.

recreational porch sitting + habitual walking = saying hello = not being an asshole

So there I am, walking and iPodding, and I say hello. One of the men mouthed something back at me, but with the iPod, I was hearing impaired. (This is not infrequent.) Usually, I just smile in response and continue along my merry (or not so merry) way without taking the time to find out what inane pleasantry the stranger had mouthed. This morning, however, something inspired me to remove my headphones and find out what I’d missed. In the following exchange, it’s worth noting that I was the instigator. Me – not the men who were minding their own business, enjoying the day and their porch, saying hello because they’re not assholes. No, they were just doing what good neighbors do and then I came along.

ME: “Gorgeous day.” (It is. Really.)

GENT NO. 1: “Yes it is. Whatchu into today?”

ME: “Going for a walk. I’m not feeling so well; figure the fresh air might do me some good.”

GENT NO. 1: “Where you hurtin’?”

ME: “I’ve got a stomach ache.” (I did. Still do.)

GENT NO. 1: “Like heartburn or indigestion?”

ME: “No – well actually, maybe it is a digestion problem.” (The byproduct of unwise vodka/wine consumption.)

GENT NO. 1: “I’ve got Tums inside. Want me to get them?” (What a nice guy, right?!)

ME: “No, but thanks. I’m hoping the walk will do the trick.” (Tums taste bad.)

GENT NO. 1: “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

ME: “No.” (Thank god and the ilk. But thank you, GENT NO. 1, for the thorough questioning.)

GENT NO. 1: “Just checking, you know.”

ME: “Yeah, you might as well ask, right?”

GENT NO. 1: “Wanna have dinner with me sometime?”

ME: “No. Thanks, though.”

GENT NO. 1: “Why? You got a boyfriend?”

ME: “No.”

GENT NO. 1: “A husband?”

ME: “No. I’m just not into men.”

GENT NO. 1: “You ain’t no dyke, are you?”

ME: “No, I’m just not into men.”

GENT NO. 1: “Are you into women?”

ME: “I’m just not into people at the moment. It’s not that I’m into animals, I’m just not into people.” (I think the bestiality comment freaked him out. Upon hearing that I wasn’t into animals, the man placed his hands over his face. I think that’s where I crossed the line.)

GENT NO. 1: “Oh, I see how it is.”

ME: “Thanks though. Have a great day.”

GENT NO. 1: “Ok. You too, baby.” (How sweet.)

Thanks for the well wishes. He might be pleased to know that yes, it has been a good day so far. Actually, it’s been an interesting 24 hours. Strangers, Hawaii, mothers with heart attacks, fat people at the beach (in bikinis and speedos), coffee and wine. Interesting.