At the last minute, I decided to head downtown for my favorite Mexican restaurant on East Third Street.

I got on my connecting bus at the downtown terminal and a few seats ahead of me was this little baby in a stroller. I began my usual ritual of getting her to smile.

From behind me and across the aisle came up voice, “Man, you seem like you are a load of fun. I wanna grab a beer with you.”

I wanted to assure her that I was a load of fun but did not like drinking beer.

I think her and declined her invitation.

“Are you sure? You just seem like you’d be so much fun to have a beer with.”

I explained I was meeting a son for supper and thanked her, again, for the invitation.

At my stop, she followed me off the bus.

“We could grab a quick beer and you can go have dinner.”

I thanked her, again, and said that I could not.

“Well, can you at least give me some money? I don’t got a cent to my name.”

I told her I don’t carry cash on me and she got pretty irate.

“You could at least buy me a couple beers with your credit card.”

I continued walking away toward the restaurant as she showered me with a barrage of profanity and yelling what an insensitive person I am.