I don’t want to talk to you.

I’m towards the end of a Lake Calhoun dog walk and run into a man who stares me down. I avoid eye contact, but to no avail:

Creeper: “Nice dogs!”
Me: “Thanks.”

I keep walking. He catches up.

Creeper: “How are you?”
Me: “Fine.”

I give that half-smile/eye-shift combo which means “buzz off.”

I keep walking.

Creeper: “You’re stuck up. You should try to be more friendly.”

I stop and turn around.

Me: “It’s about 25 degrees, my nose is running, I need to pee, my legs hurt, and I’m carrying about 3 pounds of dog shit in these plastic bags. I’m not in the mood to want to talk to anyone right now. I hope you understand.

I shoot him a glare and keep walking.

Sorry, my dog walk isn’t a hoe-stroll.