I hear a male voice say, "Hey."
I look up and see a kid standing behind me next to the grocery line display. He looks to be about 17 years old. He's sporting a longish, curly hairdo and his jeans are the standard baggy, hanging-low type.
"Hi," I respond in a sort-of confused, conservative way. Naturally, I think this is one of those occasions when someone thinks
they recognize you until you look up and prove them wrong. After all, he does have a pretty awkward-looking facial expression going on...
"What's your number?"
I blink once or twice as my brain does a double-take. "What?" I reply.
"What's your number?" he demands again.
I hesitate slightly, partly due to shock and partly because I can't decide between 'No, thank you' and 'I'm married'. I finally settle on the latter.
He gives an embarrassed-sounding grunt and quickly walks off.
. . .