don't talk to strangers....(the continuation of my lost cellphone story)

A few posts ago I mentioned how I had lost my cellphone and how I was going to meet this guy Jose and his friend to supposedly get it back.
So we had agreed to seven o'clock at the bus-stop (stupid idea, by the way, if you are meeting someone you don't know, for surrounded by dozens of people you don't know). I didn't make it until about 7.30 and the results of my unpunctuality should teach me a lesson never to be late again.
So, there I stand... waiting. I call Dario, who tells me Jose just called to tell me he's a few blocks away or something like that (at this point, another note to myself: don't trust Dario's messages. There are always very vital parts missing.)
So I wait and wait and suddenly this guy steps next to me. So close, he's almost touching me. He pulls out a phone and starts dialing a number.
"Jose," I think... "or maybe his friend"... and stupid (i.e. not very "streetsmart") as I am I ask him directly: Are you Jose?
I should have been able to tell by the liquor in his breath, or by his smirk when he said yes, or by the way he aggressively tried to come on to me in the following conversation but I didn't trust my instincts, given to all of us (for GOOD REASONS!) through our genetic make-up.
So, when he after minutes of me moving away from him while we were talking still didn't get the message, I just hit him. Well, actually I sort of pushed him back on his chest and told him to step back already.
I can't believe you just hit me, he said readjusting the puffiness of his down-jacket.
I'm gonna hit you somewhere else if you don't stay back, I said.
Can you now please focus and tell me where Jose is?" I asked to which he answered under his breath,"oh, my dick is so hard right now."
"oookayy. I think I have to go now." I said stepping away quickly.
"f*** the phone" I thought and to the crazy dude I said "I'll be back. Just tell Jose to call me when he gets here."
Unfortunately, he didn't follow the distractive instruction of staying put.
"let me walk you!" he exclaimed.
"no, no that's ok." I said "you stay here in case Jose gets here. I'll be right back. Just have to go feed my kid." after which I began jogging away (don't run from dogs, they'll start chasing you, I thought).
My car was only a few hundred feet away and I didn't want him to see me getting into it.
Unfortunately, he must have been right behind me, for when I got into the van and THANK GOD locked the doors immediately (9 years in NYC...at least I learned something), he was already knocking on the passenger side window.
Still pretending everything was ok and dandy (as not to get him started) I opened the window a little.
-Can I get a ride? he asked.
-Are you f**ing crazy? I replied.
-Whyy?
-First of all I am a woman - alone in a van with tinted windows. Second, after what you just said I'd prefer to get away from you a.s.a.p.
-Oh. you heard that?
- Oh. yes.
- You know what it is.... I just popped a viagra pill. That gets you horny as shit.
- You took a viagra pill? How old are you?? I asked, trying to keep the conversation light since my car was blocked by a bus next to me.
- I'm twenty-seven.
- No, you're not, I said in disbelieve, you look more like you're in your early twenties.
- No, I'm twenty-seven. ...
- So why the hell are you taking viagra? Isn't that screwing with your system. (and hopefully it will screw with it right now so you can drop to the ground and leave me alone, I thought.)
- nah. it's great. you can fuck for like 3 hours straight.
- oh. that's nice to know. good for you. (f**ing bus, move already).
- so, can I get a ride please. it's just up the hill. to my boy's house.
- eh. I DON'T THINK SO." I said with a big smile, to which he replied with pushing his arm through the window to reach the unlock-button for the door.
At this point, I just pulled out of the parking spot. Thankfully, the bus had just begun moving and I didn't hit it.
I cursed all the way back up to my house.
Stupid phone. Stupid me. Stupid Jose. ...

I was just gonna let it go but a few days later I stumbled over Jose's number on my caller i.d. and decided to call him after all to tell him how disappointed I was in him and this act of sending his stupid potentially raping ghetto friend.

When I confronted him, though, he didn't know what I was talking about.
What the fuck are you talking about? You're trippin'. We were supposed to meet at 7. You called my voicemail at 7:30 so I called your house to say I'll check if my friend is still around and then I'd be there soon. and when my boy didn't answer his phone I called your house back to say I'm not coming.
- you did? I asked. (and I'm gonna kill Dario to myself).
After me telling him the story Jose asked me what this guy looked like.
- dunno I said, early twenties ... puerto-rican maybe.
- my friend is a 200 lbs white ni**a, he said.
white n... I thought. wow, how the language has traveled. ....
To prove his innocence to me he insisted on calling his friend (who still had my phone) on a conference call at this very minute.
Once you hear his voice you should know if this is who you met or not, J said.

So, it turned out I addressed a complete stranger at the busstop. But it couldn't be just any stranger. It had to be the one who was drunk, feisty, ghetto, and high on viagra.

;) I really ought to stop being so stupid.