I was walking toward the corner to my car, and I saw a dude cross the street, take a good look at me, and then disappear behind the corner of a building. A couple moments later, when I turned that same corner, the dude was their waiting for me, taking out his earbuds to talk to me.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” I replied. I kept walking.
“What’s your name?” asked the guy, with a little urgency in his voice.
“I’m on my way home, my friend.” I said, flatly, without breaking my stride. I thought I might have heard him following me, but I kept walking without turning back. When I turned into the parking lot, he wasn’t anywhere in sight.
When I got home, I changed my facebook status to “I totally got hit on on the way to my car.”
I told the story to my sister over chat, she told me “you got cruised.”
“I got cruised? Is that a thing?” I asked.
“What color was his bandana?” she asked, clowning on me.
“What? There’s a bandana color thing?”
She scoffed at my cluelessness and directed me to the hanky code, which was an eye opener to me. I learned several words I hadn’t known before.
Anyway, I went to bed after that.
At 4:30 in the morning I wake up to my phone ringing, and saw my dad’s name on the caller ID. “Are you ok?” he asked. “You said on your facebook that you were hit on the way to your car.”
“Dad,” I said, “It says I was hit on.”
“Oh. Go back to sleep.”