My New Pen Pall

Happy Leap Day!

This morning started out rainy. I sat through my first class with almost my whole front half damp, except where my raincoat covered. Many people were practical, and brought umbrella's, but I find them to be a hassle, so I usually don't use them. Usually this isn't a problem, because it usually isn't raining. Today, I saw it was raining, and decided my raincoat was enough. You're probably wondering what this has to do with strange people on the bus, and with good reason, because so far it has nothing to do with anything except my otherwise mundane life. I'll tell you: if you don't have an umbrella, you have to stand under the covered area of the bus stop, which severely limits where you can stand. Today, waiting at my bus stop in East Cleveland, I stood under the sheltered area, and met yet another bus character. 

There are two parts that are covered at a Healthline bus stop: One, enclosed, where people can purchase tickets and there are benches; another, which is sheltered by a continuation of the roof on the enclosed area that juts out so it more than doubles the size of the original shelter. I stood under the unenclosed roof. A man stood in the enclosed area. Out of seemingly no where, another man walked up to me under the roof. 

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked. Well, sir, you just did, so while I suppose one question is okay, you've just used up your quota. 

"Um, sure" I said.

"There are these menthol cigarettes (blah blah blah)...do you have any change?" I usually lie, and say no, but today I really didn't have any change, so I honestly said no. "No quarters?" At my head shake: "not even pennies?"

"No, sorry," and I thought I was done. I was mistaken. A car had just pulled up in the parking lot behind us, which isn't unusual, as the bus stop is immediately in front of a shopping strip. The man seemed to take offense to this car, though. 

Except Cleveland doesn't have mountains and it was rainy

"Are those your people?" He asked me. My people? What? Who do you think I am? I told him they weren't. "HEY! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" He yelled at the car. I honestly thought for a second that they were going to shoot at us (East Cleveland and what not). He walked up to the car, and again, I thought I was done; and again I was mistaken. 

He came up to me again. By this time I was fed up with him. 

"Can we be pen palls?" He asked. 

"No."

"No? Oh, okay." And he crossed the street and left.

While having a pen pall might be fun, and I do enjoy writing and receiving letters, I'm not mourning the loss of that potential friend.