Meeting strange people is one of my favorite pastimes.
This morning at the park I met the perfect incarnation of every stereotype of eastern European men I’ve ever heard, an old man with his granddaughter who ran wild with Verona while we shared a park bench in the shade. He had flawless olive colored skin with outrageous deep laugh lines and not a single tooth left. He smelled like hummus and throughout our conversation would occasionally lean much closer than social etiquette would deem acceptable, touch my leg and say in his outrageously thick accent “You very sexy. Very very sexy. You have husband in country, no?” while raising his eyebrows suggestively.
I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it was cultural differences mixed with a sucky grasp of English instead of him just being a giant creeper.
He told me about Bosnia, about moving here to live with his grown children, and about his other grandchildren. He also asked me question after question about my dogs (which he figured out I had since my pants were covered in fur like they always are)… either Barney and Daisy are incredibly interesting or that was one area of conversation where he had confidence in his vocabulary.
Other than possibly wanting to take me as his child bride he was a fun dude, hopefully we’ll run into them again sometime.