Girl

People on the train were over-friendly tonight.  I don't like it when that happens, makes me nervous.  I know that I'm a friendly sort and all, but people reaching out to untwist the straps of my backpack or prying for information about my love life is just a little too far from random strangers.  What do they think this is, Mississippi?

I waited at the bus stop with an old man who wore a tan overcoat and carried a plastic shopping bag.  He tapped me on the shoulder and I thought, "Jesus, and now this guy."  When I turned around he was holding out a sucker.

"Oh!  Thank you," I said, perhaps a little suspiciously.  I put it in the pocket of my hoodie.  His lady friend/caretaker/family member said, "I've had five of those today.  That's his thing today, passing out candy.  I think maybe because it's Halloween time."

The old man had gone back over to his side of the bus stop, leaving me alone.  Watching him, it was obvious that he was suffering from some form of dementia.  I talked to the lady for a few minutes about flavors of dumdum suckers and when the bus was due.  Eventually, the man came back, tucking another sucker into the pocket of my hoodie when he thought I wasn't looking.  He caught me watching him and said, "I thought you might want another.  Or maybe for a friend?"

"Thank you very much," I said.  "Root beer is my favorite flavor."  I told them goodbye when we got off of the bus.  I noticed he'd left a sucker for the bus driver, too, propped haphazardly on the dollar bill receptacle.

He reminded me of my grandfather, I guess because he treated me like a little girl instead of a woman.  He just wanted to be kind and give me a sucker, because out of all of the people at the bus stop I might need one. 

Later it occurred to me to be a little sad that I can no longer interact with men the way I interacted with my grandfather.  It's impossible to have that sort of completely innocent interaction with a guy, no matter how platonic we are or how gay they are, and has been since I've had boobs.  It's just a thing.  There's guarded distance at the least, like at any second something might happen to send us into inappropriate territory.  

Of course, I regret nothing of the less-than-innocent variety that I've done with the males of the species, so I guess it evens out.

One of the suckers fell out of my pocket on the walk home from the bus.  At least it wasn't the root beer one.