Here be the story:

I was at a bus stop, waiting to get to the grocery store, when this guy taps me on the shoulder. Now, apparently, he had approached me a few months before, and gave me his card, which I politely accepted...then threw away after I got on the bus, which, mercifully, arrived mere seconds after he did.

Fast forward to today, the same guy is there, asking why I didn't call, and assuming I lost his card. At this point, I go with the old standby story, and regretfully inform him I have a boyfriend waiting for me back home, whom I'm returning to when I graduate. He asks how many years, I told him it will be at the end of this year. I'm vaguely amused by this point because he just won't give up.

He then asks what our plans are, and I continue spinning the yarn, oh, we're going into graduate school together, he's in computers, and I'm planning on archaeology, to which he replies, "Oh, I thought you were going to say nursing, like everyone else is doing now."

No, no, good sir, I work with human skeletons instead. He nods, and then says, "Oh, I get it, so when they find a skeleton, you can tell them what they looked like."

Er...no. When a skeleton is found, I can tell you race, age, sex, injuries they may have sustained throughout their lifetime, and quite possibly how they died, just to name a few things, depending on what I see on the bones.

He then asks me if I take part in the other stuff, and mimes cutting his chest, and I ask, "Autopsies? Oh, no. I've seen a few, and taken part in a few, but that's actually what convinced me to choose bone work. I love working with bones. I just don't care for the squishy bits, can't really handle them well."

His response was, "Oh, good. Man, if a girl told me she cut people up, I'd have to turn my back on that, it's just nasty, cutting up dead people."

I look at him, and give him the icy stare, which completely is over his head apparently, and ask, "Why? Someone has to speak for the dead. They have so much to tell us, if someone is only patient enough to listen to their language/"

He answered, "Well yes, but it's just not impressive. I mean, if I told you I was a lawyer, you'd be impressed, right?"

"Well, given my opinion on certain aspects of the legal field in general, no. Not really."

"But you'd be more impressed than if I told you I worked in a grocery store, right?"

At this point, I'm giving him the lifted eyebrow in combination with the icy stare, and replied, "What's wrong with working at a store? Employees there are just trying to make a living, as much as anyone else. Sure, being a lawyer may be seen as more prestigious, but it doesn't make you better than a bag boy. There's a reason these jobs exist. They're a necessary component in our society."

Thankfully, the bus was turning the corner by then, and I nodded at him, and said that's my bus. As the bus pulled to the corner, I just had to add, "Just think about it. The dead talk. They tell is what happened to them, and sometimes, that's a world of importance to the living. Someone has to translate, right?"

He smiled at me, like I should melt into his arms or something, and said, "Yeah sure. Hey, call me sometime and we can talk about it."

Um. NO. Besides, if I did call, he'd probably think that meant he had a chance. I thanked the bus driver for showing up when he did, because I was about to pepper spray him for his terminal case of stupidity. The bus driver asked me if I was harassing they guy, and I said, nope, he was harassing ME. After explaining, the bus driver said if a girl told him that's what she did for a living, he'd think it was hot. And fascinating! He agreed with me on the fact that all jobs were there for a reason, but said the police probably wouldn't go for my reason for macing the guy.

I said if I found a female cop, she'd probably empathize, completely.

WHY do I attract all the crazies, huh? Why, gods, why?

Anyways, thought someone would enjoy the tale.
Current Music: Breaking Benjamin - "Water"