Benched
The other day two older "gentleman" drove me straight into the arms of Commerce.

I was sitting on a bench, reading when "gentleman" #1 approached. (Ironically, the book was a coming-of-age story where the main character gets harassed by an old man. Her mother ends up shooting him, but that is another story.)

He was unhappy that I didn't greet him warmly. He told me I had an attitude (which is a common insult that a man will throw at a woman whenever she is not elated to see him or when she does not offer to sit on his lap). I told him to have a nice day and found another bench.

Sometimes when I sit outside I find that after swatting way one pest, another will immediately follow. But this does not usually happen with pests of the human variety.

I wasn't sitting on my new bench long, when "gentleman" #2 came by. Unlike, "gentleman" #1, #2 was not sober. His zig-zagging flight and slurred speech caused me to flee once again. But I wised up and did not find another bench.

I followed my own unsteady course into a clothing store, where lo and behold, I found what I had long been looking for: a pair of well-fitting, dark jeans at an amazing price. So thank you horrid and annoying old men for sending me on my way to a 70% off rack and $4.99 jeans. All's well that ends well, as they say.