sigh.

I was all amped up for the Earth Day flea market and festival in Clark Park this Saturday--I love Clark Park, I love flea markets--jackpot, right? So I woke up on Saturday morning (or the cat jumped onto my head, either way) all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to enjoy myself. Sadly, no one was around to share the fun--roomie was away in Baltimore and Amanda was off at a photo workshop getting educated in the ways of apertures and shutter speeds--so I strolled over all by my onesie to check things out. I found a nifty oven-safe bowl for five dollars (I am addicted to kitchenware, yes, but I actually had specific plans for it), so that was cool. But then my allergies all exploded into one massive nose-draining eye-watering hullaballoo--so I hightailed it out of there and ran some errands. I headed back later in the afternoon, though (because I am NOT a quitter!) and had some AWESOME fried chicken for lunch.

Then, since all the market stalls were now totally set up, I browsed happily for a while, poking through old books (the illustrated Joy of Sex from the seventies....OH so much awkward body hair...) and bric-a-brac. Then I had an uncomfortable encounter with a retarded (I don't use the word lightly--there was definitely something wrong there) guy that Amanda and I had met once before. He's a youngish guy (late teens, early twenties maybe) and didn't come off as dangerous or anything. That first time, we were waiting at the bus stop and he approached us because we clearly weren't going anywhere. We sort of had a conversation (as in he insisted that he needed to get our phone numbers and telling him that, no, we didn't want him to have our phone numbers took a good ten minutes), and then he gave us both bone-crushing hugs...and started humping Amanda. Thank God for serendipitous timing--the bus pulled up right about then.

The guy must live in somewhere in the neighborhood, because this time, I was looking at a bookseller's stall when he walked by with his bike--and I don't know if he recognized me, but he yelled out "Hello ma'am! Hello ma'am! Hello!" and came over for a chat...which I couldn't avoid. Nor could I avoid yet another hug, but I had to shove him away because he was actually throttling me. He kept asking if he could touch my shoes...I said no. He gave me the finger and said "good or bad? Good or bad?" I told him that that was a bad thing to do with his hands--he went though several other gestures, each time asking me if they were good or bad. By this time, my allergies were flaring up again, I was incredibly uncomfortable being near this guy, and starting to get really cranky. I just wanted to get away and go home. I finally managed to edge away, saying "Okay, I'm going to go now. Bye!" I walked really quickly and didn't look back. I got home and had to do a lot of cooking to relieve my feelings (homemade pasta and a lemon souffle).

So. I'm not really proud of how I handled that situation, but I guess it could've been worse. My (meager) social graces go right out the window whenever I'm made uncomfortable like that. I wish I had a little bit more poise, but oh well. I doubt I hurt his feelings. I wasn't in any danger or anything...If I'm lucky, I won't run into that guy again.