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When I was 16, and shortly after I received my driver's license, I took my sister and my cousin Leon out for a spin. It was one of the first times I was driving and Leon wasn't. Now, believe me, I was not the speed racer I am now. I was cautious and slow and grammy like. So, I cautiously, slowly, and grammishly drove down the street, stopped at a stop sign, and made the turn. Unfortunately, I either clipped a guy in a wheel chair (Leon and Side Salad's story) OR I more likely clipped the curb since I probably stopped about 3 feet too soon.

Fast forward 22 years later .. I am less cautious, speedy, and Andretti like in my driving. I left work about 7pm, was listening to some tunes, responding to a text message, and MFing everyone on Sisson Avenue. Now, I saw some blinking yellow and orange lights but attributed those to my poor eye sight and ignored them. FINALLY, I get around the cautious, slow, grammy, drivers and cut a left onto the highway. And to what to my wondering eyes should appear???? Two people crossing the highway entrance in their appropriately lighted and safetyfied motorized wheelchairs. I had to slam on my breaks (what, taking a turn at 45 mph is normal) - which caused significant locking of my brakes, smoke, and all my shit to go flying. The wheelchair bound were unphased by my reactions - I am certain they are used to it. Luckily the empathetic portion of my brain still functions, and I apologized profusely - which instead of the tearful its ok that I was expecting, I got the finger, which I certainly deserved.

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I am not quite sure what about me screams "I'm straight!" But clearly after Guess the Gay, it is not so shocking. Actually, its maybe just a guy thing - some dudes just don't pick up the same lesbian vibe. Anyway, I am en route to Miami for a gig down there. I check in, changing my seat to a locale close to the back with no one sitting near or basically around me. Although I am a chatty cathy, I really don't like talking to people on the plane. So, I attempt to get to my seat and run into a guy coming toward me with lots of crap in his hands. Not literaly crap, just lots of bags and such. I smile (ding!), say excuse me and that is all I apparently needed to do.

I eek past him and make it to my seat. He follows me, telling me that he is merely helping the woman sitting behind me get all of her crap. He helps her, I take out book, ipod, water, and buckle in. No sooner do I complete this ritual, when he asks what seat I am in. In my head I scream WTF MFAHDB I know I am in the right seat. I tell him, with attitude, my seat number and he smiles and says too bad, I thought we would get to share a seat. AH NO!!!

He finishes helping and just stands around waiting for the doors close, and then noticing no one is sitting next to me, asks if he could. At this moment I could have said - no way sit someplace else you jankassfool - instead I found myself saying sure. He starts chatting. I say look, I am about to fall asleep and before the plane leaves the ground, I am fast asleep. Thank god.

I wake about an hour and an half later, to this dude staring at me. Ok, Creepy! Then he starts chatterboxing. Me, being me and no longer cranky, start chatterboxing back because he tells me that he works in a prison with death row inmates and I wanted the scoop. So we talk. At some point he gets up to pee and comes back and his fly is open. WTF!? I ignore it all. So, we chat and continue to chat until the plane lands and we stand for a bit in the airport. He's off to Jamacia for some funeral. So, I hand they guy my card - because I get nervous and by this time thought maybe he would be a good donor (if you know what I mean). Although I should have guessed that he would call, given that they always call after I give my card.

I get back to the office, yadda yadda yadda and on Wednesday receive a call from someone who clearly thinks that I should know immediately who I am talking to. Do you have any idea how many different strangers I talk to in a day? So, it turns out it is my plane friend and he has a gift for me and wants to see me. I do what I do, and tell him that I am swamped and should call back.

Thursday was a crazy day and I was in and out of the office. I return from some meeting and there is a bag on my desk with a note that Dave stopped by to drop off something from his trip. Of course I think it is one of my students who happened to be in Hawaii for the summer. Fool am I. It was a mug and coffee from Jamacia.

So, looks like the donor wants more than a simple sterile no contact type donation. I am going to have to come out to the dude and make this whole thing disappear. Alas, one more stalker to the list. I clearly need a lesson in no talking, being mean, and not giving out my business card to anyone who shows interest.