So it's 4 o'clock in the morning and I'm thinking, "Damn....I'm thristy...and I could use a tasy snack." I grab my keys, put on a hoodie, plug in my iPod and head out. So I'm on my way to the bodega (corner store, for those of you not in NYC...mostly run by Mexicans or Indians) that's down by the subway station, and about half a block away from my apartment, there is some drunk man stumbling towards me. "Just avoid him, try to stay out of the way," I think. As he is about to pass me, he stumbles and lands on the ground. "Shit." I reluctantly remove my head phone from my ear.

Me: "Are you ok?"

Him: "Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Are you drunk?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need help?"

"No."

He's still on the ground.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you live?"

"Where do YOU live?!"

"Um...over there." I point in the general direction of, but not directly at, my house.

"Cool."

"Let's get you up off the ground."

I help him to his feet. He's heavy and smells like cheap beer. He's leaning on me..and if you know me, you know I'm tiny and easily breakable. I shift his weight so that I'm not holding him up too much.

"Where do you live?'

He points south. We start walking.

"What's that?"

I forgot to pause my iPod. "Just music."

"Heh. Music"

"Yeah. Which house is yours?"

"(insert cross section of streets he lives on)"

"Ok, let's go." It's only four blocks.

"Where are you from?"

"Um...here."

"Here, where?"

"New York"

"Oh.."

"Which house is yours?"

"It's up there."

We keep walking.

"You're so skinny."

I try not to glow in the compliment. "Thanks." And you're....not so much. He spots the rainbow bracelet on my wrist from Pride.

"You a fag?"

Awkwardly..."Yeeahh."

"Cool. I have fag friends."

"Yay." (Sarcasm, in case you weren't paying attention)

"I don't llike cock though."

"It's an aquired taste." <-- My attempt at being a smart ass.

"A what?"

"Nothing. Where's your house?"

"Right there." He points to a house three buildings away. "FINALLY!"

"Alright, Dude. Here we go."

"Thanks, man. What's your name?"

"Charles."

"John?"

"Charles."

"John."

"...........yes, John."

"Mark"

"Cool...so you..um...ok?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"My sister's here"

"So she'll take care of you."

"Yeah."

"Cool. Have a good night."

"You should come to my bar."

Damn it, I don't want to make conversation!

"I will." I start to walk away.

"You don't know where it is!"

"Yeah, I saw you come out of it." (No..I didn't)

"Oh....ok"

"Goodnight."

"Later."

This is the last time ever I am being nice to a complete stranger! Ugh! Doesn't this guy have friends or you know a bartender who's supposed to call a cab or something? The next time a drunk person falls at my feet, I'm stepping over the bump in the sidewalk and turning up the volume on my iPod. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck being polite to people!! So, back to why I left my apartment in the first place, I make my way to the bodega, buy my Peach Tea Snapple and Salted Cashews and come back home. And now I don't even want the damned cashews!!!!