“Do you have your passport?” He approached Jenna at the Starbuck’s.
“My passport?” She looked up from her book.
“Yes, your passport to love.” He emphasized the last word and sat down in the chair opposite hers. “Because I could take a girl like you on a trip around the world,” his eyes ran the length of her body.
“Seriously, does that ever work?” Jenna asked. “Do any of you think a woman will ever say that she wants to talk to you, much less have sex with you?”
“Um,” he stammered.
“The reason I ask, is that I’m doing a survey.” She removed a notebook from her bag along with her police detective’s badge and placed both on the table. “So, would you like to answer my questions here or at the station?”
(Oh, I had a blast writing this one. Something similar has happened to me a few times, and I’ve responded with what Jenna says. And I’ve been bummed I didn’t have something like a police badge to reinforce my words.
It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? So many of us don’t know how to communicate. And what’s worse is we tend to try and get into other people’s personal space uninvited. It does bring to mind, though, how do we learn how to interact? What do you think? Was Jenna’s reaction appropriate? Was the man’s original action even close to appropriate? What is the justification (other than total social awkwardness and lack of knowledge of propriety and personal space and the right to privacy) for his initial statement?)
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