The confessional is closed

Today on the light rail, a homeless man wanted to "holler" at me.

Yes, again.  Those who follow me on twitter or are my Facebook friend may have seen something similar awhile back.  But this was a little bit more humorous.

The morning started off on the wrong foot because I woke up at 8:25 am.  I usually leave my apartment to head to the light rail by 8:35 so you know the predicament I was in.  Nonetheless, I headed to the light rail right before 9 and figured it would be a slow day on the train since I would be on the later one.

It was slow.  But there was no stopping homeboy...we'll call him "Blu"  without the E.  This man had to be my Dad's age, if not older.  He had a beard "as white as snow".  I sat down in an empty seat while he was sprawled out across the row across the aisle...probably passed out from drinking straight whiskey or whatever it is homeless people waste their money on.

Well, I THOUGHT he was passed out....you know how drunk people sometimes look like their sleeping, but they're really just drunk?

My phone is in my hand as usual.  I'm laughing at this tweet, when Blu asks, "You got sum kinna handheld computer over there?  Thas what dem phones lukin like these here days."

I nod because I get creeped out by old street people...that and I didn't have coffee this morning.

Blu, "Can I has yours phone number?"
Me, "Uhhhh no."
Blu, "I don't want to see ya..I jus wanna have some 1 to talk to."

I'm a bear in the mornings when I don't have coffee.  In fact, I'm really rude and hate the world in the mornings.

Me: "Go talk to a priest."
Blu: "welll I'll be..you're a rude one..I jus wanted your phone number."

I seriously should've closed out the conversation with what I've been waiting to tell a homeless person asking for my number: "Will you be calling me on your stolen hamburger of the not phone type?"

But instead, I moved to avoid this man and anybody else that felt like talking to me today.

Moral of the story: At least the homeless man didn't poop on me.