Splitting Hairs

On my way to the bus to head to Burlington-- I'll spare you the suspense -- I was treated to the following. An odd looking fellow standing next to me on the bus who decided to pay me a compliment out of the blue. "Ma'am, your hair is lovely" he offered tapping on my shoulder to gain my undivided attention. Now you should know that I had smiled apologetically a few stops before when I accidentally bumped into him trying to clear a path for a passenger wanting off, I don't know, maybe that invited dialogue. Anyhow, I replied with a sheepish smile and a "thanks" promptly turning back the way I was facing to stare awkwardly out the window now painfully aware of his presence a few inches from my person. A few moments passed and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief at having successfully deterred further conversation when he spoke again: "I've learned to appreciate beauty. About 12 years ago I landed on my cranium in a bike accident. Now I take pictures of sunsets with this camera phone" (he shows me his Nokia). I turn and smile sheepishly again, for lack of a better idea, and return a nod or grunt of understanding willing the bus to speed forth to the next stop which was also MY stop. Finally, the bus arrives at my destination and as I'm about to end this little unsolicited pseudo-poetic exchange, I notice Mr. Head Trauma follows me off. I am ashamed to admit that I walked rather purposefully to the line of waiting riff-raff at the ticket office to avoid further communication.

Did he think I was rude? Will he go home and ogle at the picture I am certain he snuck of my "lovely" tresses? *shudders* I can't decide if it's naive of me to think he was just a sweet man engaging me in conversation without ulterior motive... arrogant to think he had anything more in mind... or jaded and cynical to wonder what sort of perverse thoughts he was, is or may have.....

That is all....