On my way to Tampa from Moscow, I had a layover in Washington DC which turned into an all night layover.
Because the weather in Florida was projected to be in the low 80's for the duration of my trip, I left my parka and boots in Moscow. Why bring that extra 7 pounds with me? Right? Good idea. Best I've ever had.
Then I find myself waiting for my hotel shuttle on the median at the airport in 40 degree Washington DC rainy weather, with no coat and opened toe shoes. Brilliant.
A man about my age, also waiting for the shuttle, said he had an extra sweatshirt, and would I like to borrow his coat? I decline, because come on, that would be weird. Now I have to focus on not looking cold. We make polite conversation about what brought us to our layover in DC. His was weather related, mine was the fault of United-I-steal-stuff-out-of-your-luggage-Airlines.
I had a free voucher for hotel, and he only had a discount voucher. We are now best friends at this point (his opinion, not mine, I am only focusing on not looking cold so not taking his coat isn't awkward). So my backpacking best friend suggests that we split my hotel room and he gives me 50 bucks instead of giving the hotel 100. I tell my new friend that no that is weird (in the best 1. I am not cold, and 2. We are not really friends tone). I really need to work on being less approachable. He insists it is a solid offer, that I will not get more than 50 dollars for my room from anyone else, and that I should take it while the offer is still good. I inform him, I did not list half my room on craigslist.com and that I am not a member of couchsurfing.com either.
I give the ultimate shut down of "No, my husband would not be thrilled to find out about this."
He counters with, a surprising, "call your husband, I'll talk to him on the phone and he won't mind."
Yeah, my husband REALLY isn't going to be ok with that.
So the shuttle comes for the hotel.
My bus to heaven is here.
He is on my shuttle.
He is going to the same hotel.
Him persisting the whole way, and me and me shutting him down the whole way, was our ride to the Landsdowne Resort from Washington/Dulles airport.
In a last ditch effort, he pulls out his trump card,
"But I am normal!"
I realize that I have never once had to implore with someone that I am normal. True normal people do not have to defend their normalcy. I tell him such, and I pull out my creepy-guy trump card, Ted Bundy.
"Yeah, you know who else looked normal and said he was normal? Ted Bundy."
I spent the rest of the night thinking of ways to be less approachable and vowing to never leave my coat at home again.