So yeah, I was posted up near the bottom of the ascending escalator at McPherson waiting for the blue line to take me home. The orange line pulls up, and among others, a skinny dark-skinned dude with really big eyes and his head wrapped gets off the train. Not like middle-eastern wrap, but DC wrapped. Slim looked like he was about to head up the escalator, when he noticed me and decided to walk towards me instead. Now, truthfully speaking, I’m not one to profile based off of appearance alone—the energy you give off does come into play. Dude came off to me as sketchy.

I knew he was about to approach me and ask me for something (I was thinking for money or to ask for/sell drugs), but something told me to be prepared in case he did something stupid. With that in mind, I clenched my right fist in my coat pocket while he asked me if I had $3 or something like that because he just “got out and blah, blah, blah. Only real problem was dude sat RIGHT next to me, as in shoulders touching—close. Complete violation of personal space. I told him I didn’t have it, but wasn’t willing to move either as I didn’t want to give off any false air of fear.

Instead of leaving, this is what happens (roughly):
Dude: True
He pauses for a second or two.
Dude: So what’s your name?
Pregnant pause as I consider answering him.
Me: Lee. What’s your name?
Looking away, then turning back to look at me with wide open eyes.
Dude:Shit, they call me all kinds of things.
Me: Word? I hope they’re positive.
Momentary silence. And this is where it gets even more awkward.
Dude: So what you getting into later tonight?
To myself I’m thinking, WTF?! Should I lie, because this is really weird…I mean for real. Nah, keep it 100.
Me: Work.
Another pensive pause.
Dude:… Aight then my nigga.
Me: …

…and cut! Yeah, so was it me? Was I being hit on by a homo thug? Or am I missing something? Either way, the entire exchange was a study in the realm of the bizarre. Then, I have a bit of an issue with people I know referring to me as “their nigga”, but people I don’t know—yeah, not a good look. To be honest, it’s a duality that I struggle with, because the word is ingrained in my speech. It comes out in jest, when frustrated or angry…but it’s not a good thing. There are times when the use of the word is appropriate, but in general…I’d like to reach a point when the word is rarely used by me, and a bit of an oddity when it comes out of my mouth.