Well, today was a little frightening.
So I went to that lovely spot on the Singapore River outside the Esplanade that I brought Ling-chan to, and was just about to eat my cake. This dark-skinned guy comes up to me and says, "Can I sit here?"
I smirk, because the place doesn't belong to me, and I'm not the most unfriendly person in the universe. So I say, "OK." almost imediately.
However, at the same time that I say "OK." the guy tries to justify himself by saying, "You are very beautiful, you know?"
Now, when a guy says that, he always wants something. Given that I don't know this person, my alarm bells immediately start ringing. However, I'm not the most unfriendly person in the universe, so I ignore that. He begins telling me about how he's from South Africa, and he wants to come here and play football. Then he asks me if I'm studying.
Since my alarm bells are ringing at maximum volume, I jack up my age and say, "Oh no, I'm working."
"Where do you work?"
"In one of the banks." Which is quite true, but note that I don't say which bank, especially since we are, say, just downriver of Singapore's financial district, second only to Shenton Way.
So he natters on, and says that I have a nice balloon (I reply "There're giving out balloons at Raffles Place, because it's Tobacco Free Week."), about his plans for the future, etc. And we have a decent conversation, except all throughout I keep all my attention focused on my brownie as I eat it.
Then he asks me, "Are you Singaporean?"
As I'm sure all of you who have followed this blog quite regularly know, that's a rather sore point with me on a normal day. In an abnormal situation like this, it's much much worse. So I reply, "Yes, I am. Why, don't I look local?"
That is, actually, my stock answer to all "Are you Singaporean?" questions. However, this round I was warning him in a way: This is my territory, and if I want to run, I can run. Easily.
He got the hint, and tried to explain himself. "I'm a foreigner, I can't differentiate..."
At this point, my kindness gets the better of me and I tell him that's actually a very common question for me. We continue chatting, and I ask him more about his studies.
By this time, I've finished my brownie, so I tell him I have to leave. And then he asks me for my phone number.
Now, this isn't anything new either. I could have pulled the trick that I usually do with salesgirls that I'm too tired to say no to: write down a fake telephone number. Or I could have said "I have no paper." However, note that my current situation was alone, with a foreigner, in a rather deserted place, so I said. "No, I'd rather not."
Then I retreated into Esplanade itself, which has security guards, at least.
Later, when I was walking back, someone that looked suspiciously like the stranger called to me. "Hello! Ss..."
So that's why I don't trust him, I thought. He didn't introduce himself.

On another note, found Dr Light (the hero) fanfic! This makes my day! Check out Dr Light ongoing series by Lamont Mallory on FF.net!