I sat there staring at the reddish light up at the distance. Women in skimpy clothes plying their trade.

"I work there, you know."

Said a voice beside me. I don't want to look back into her eyes so I could avoid unneeded conversation. I just want to get my midnight snack and go back home at the condo.

The baker frowned at me. Trouble.

I could still feel her watching. I just do my well-practiced, you-dont-exist-in-my-universe stance and then I don't have to worry about strangers. When I could see from my peripheral vision that she glanced away, I dared to take a glance.

She has a childish face. Unlike some of the women 'back' there, this one isn't flirty or anything. She's just that. I don't want my over active imagination create stories about her in my head, profiling her whole personality with just a look.

Yeah I do that to people. It's a bad habit. I usually stay quiet anyway.

I'd like to crack a joke with lines like, "So, you uh, work late huh?" But tonight, I don't want to talk like that. Because as usual, I have somebody's face in my head. I have little love for strangers, my xenophobia as one of my most endearing traits.

I surprised myself when I did reply. "Yeah, I think you do work there."

She then turned to me with a playful look in her eyes. I was biting my lip. What the hell was I doing? But coolly enough, my other persona is taking over so I kept calm. The store is strangely crowded.

She sits across the table anyway, so maybe a conversation isn't so bad. Before I knew it, she's talking about herself, the stuff she loves and such. I don't know why she's telling me all this. I do sometimes give people the impression that I'm "someone you can talk about anything."

I give eye contacts every now and then. Taking a small bite out of the bread to signify that I'm still listening. The occasional "Uhuh" and nods. I'm not ready to give out anything about me at this time. Little by little, I'm beginning to say more. Not about me, but how I think.

I don't have grand theories about people, or women, or the world. I don't know everything and don't wish to. Sometimes yeah, I get drowned in my own little world, and sometimes I ask what all of this means. Sometimes I wish I don't have to ask questions anymore and just enjoy stuff as it comes.

What was strange about all this you ask? Well, she listened. Or maybe she did that to reciprocate me listening to her (or as I appeared to be).

Somewhere along the little talk I think I told her that I never thought low about her. People are people to me (perhaps I said that out of xenophobia). Getting your hymen ripped off don't make you less of a person now do ya?

After all that I bid farewell to go back home to sleep, she asked if I was married. I said no. And before my overactive imagination would finish off what she's about to say, she said something pretty cool and unsettling at the same time.

Naw, I'm not gonna say it here ;)