The clerk rang me up and bagged my purchase. As I waited for my receipt I saw a man approach out of the corner of my eye. I looked down at my hands to avoid him.

He said “You are so beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying…” and fingered my bag still on the counter.

I looked into his face. He had smooth skin, Indian features and a baby’s pudgy roundness. There was a black tie around his forehead. He was about 5’6″, dressed in a heavy padded cotton winter coat and weighed about three hundred pounds. He stood blocking the end of the register lane.

I replied flatly, “I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” I stated softly. He let go of my bag. I turned and headed for the exit. “You’re Fuckin’ ugly then! Fuck You! Fuck you! You are fuckin’ ugly then!” He was following me to the door.

I rushed down Avenue A towards 3rd street away from the noise.

“Fuckin’ ugly. Fine! Fuckin’ ugly!” he yelled out the automatic door.

There were people on the sidewalk across the street looking, watching.