You Talking to Me?

People who talk to themselves scare me. But, people who half talk to themselves and half talk to me scare me even more.

Last week, there was this guy in my building's basement laundry room, talking aloud about how gross his laundry was, what didn't and did belong with his colors and whites. I kept on doing my thing, mentally preparing myself to confidently tell him my husband would murder him with his bare hands, you know, for when this guy said or did something inappropriate.

Random street people and people on those Bluetooth headsets, all frightening. But the worst of all is Woman Shopper. Woman Shopper scours every clothing store I enter and finds me for an awkward, sort-of conversation.

Scene: I'm in TJ Maxx contemplating a pair of $19.99 sandals and Woman Shopper says, "Oh these are nice. These will go good with my brown suit..." She's looking at me, looking down at her feet, turning her ankles around in my direction, posing. Am I supposed to agree or act like I was born deaf?

Another Woman Shopper as I'm plowing through racks of tops. Holds one up to her body and faces me. "I love this shade of pink." Not really a question, per se, but should I tell her it actually looks like bunk on her?

Do I just have a friendly face or is this an epidemic?

To avoid these do I answer/do I play dumb situations, I adopt a scowl face sometimes. But, then I get, "Oh honey, smile! Whatever it is, it's not that bad!"

"Oh fine," I should say with a smart-ass smile. "Go ahead, ask me about your shoes and tell me about your funky Hanes then. I know you're dying to!"