Why when I am walking down the street, talking on the cell phone, at a brisk pace, do people want to ask me questions out-of-the-blue? The other day, a woman called to me to ask if the stores I was walking past were open. Why would she assume I knew this? Because I was on the phone and she wanted an excuse to interrupt me?

And sorry if this makes me seem all Scrooge, but you don’t get a pass just because you are homeless. All I wanted to do was sit on the park bench and have my conversation in peace. When the homeless guy approached, I stupidly assumed he would see that I was on the phone. He did, but he started talking anyway.

Hey Sweetheart. Can I ask you a question? (By the way, being homeless doesn’t get you a pass on that either. Unless you know me well enough to have seen me in pajamas, or you are a person over the age of sixty-five, you best keep your terms of endearment to yourself.)

I responded with what I thought was a very polite, “I’m on the phone sir.”

I got back a “Damn!” and plenty of mumblings that I’m certain weren’t kind words regarding my character.