I was confronted (accosted?) by one of the crazy homeless dudes in Venice/Marina del Rey this morning. I was sitting outside enjoying the sun when he parked his shopping cart at the end of the alley and stomped up to me 20 feet away:
YOU’RE THE MAN, RIGHT?! (and not in a cool, “You da man!” like way, but more of an accusatory tone)
I’m a man, sure.
YOU’RE THE MAN, AND YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT
Actually, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
YOU’RE THE MAN AND I’M A MAN AND YOU NEED TO TREAT ME WITH RESPECT SO STOP FOLLOWING ME!
I’m not following you.
YOU’RE FOLLOWING ME AND YOU AIN’T NO MAN!
Well, I live around here, so I’m gonna see you again.
STOP FOLLOWING ME AND LEAVE ME ALONE!
If you say so, have a good day!
It’s funny the things that don’t phase you even a little as you get older. A younger version of me would have had the blood pumping in his ears, his stress-level up, a stammer in his voice, and fully expecting to get jumped. The now me just doesn’t give a shit and was totally calm.
I just wish I could stop following him!
Actually, I should start following him, so I can find out what he’s trying to hide.