On the Bus: Mickey D's

On the 90 bus last week: A guy stops and says I should be named Beautiful. Then realizes the only seat in the bus is next to me and sits down.

He pulls out his McDonald's cheeseburger as he says, "There's no eating on the bus," and he proceeds to chomp down on it. In between bites, he asks me how old I am, when my birthday is (from which he announces some math and notes that I was born on a Saturday, then says I'm the second person from 1982 he has talked to today), where I work, where I went to school (He knows a guy who once worked on a farm in Missouri and called it Misery, he says.) and my name. My constant staring out the window away from him and my timid one-word answers did not dissuade him.

By that point, he has finished his cheeseburger and gets off the bus. The guy behind me says, "Wow, he asked a lot of personal questions!"

Luckily, the next gentleman to take that seat followed the more normal route of not speaking a word to me.