On what was supposed to be a brief and leisurely stroll to break up my workday afternoon, I was greeted with an unexpected question on a downtown Kansas City sidewalk.
"Hey, do you use an electric razor to shave?"
Who the hell asks a question like that, and how's a reasonable person expected to respond? For Christ's sake, I was only trying to get a little fresh air on an unseasonably cool August day, but instead I was left puzzled after traveling less than 20 feet from the door to my building.
The only response I could muster was, "No." Anything more than that would have been unnecessary, and it might have been profane. Why would someone ask that question to a stranger? Was he serious? The man seemed to have just come from the nearby CVS, plastic bag in tow, but if he had a question about one of the products he purchased, shouldn't he have asked that within the walls of that store?
Why am I giving this so much thought? Because it's absurd. Like so many other things in life, it's fucking ridiculous. It proves again that getting a simple breath of fresh air, trying to clear one's mind for a brief moment is sometimes itself an unreasonably difficult task. I've almost come to accept that I'll be asked for spare change at least once each time I take an outdoor break. But now I have to consider inquiries about my personal hygiene? I suppose if anyone needs tips it would these degenerates who seem to wander downtown each day.
Maybe I should be sufficiently content that these encounters on the downtown streets only leave me baffled and annoyed. It's not too unrealistic to think that one of these mother fuckers might want to cut me.
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