OK-- my friend Sally are nail salon addicts and set up and appointment to go to--you guessed it--the salon. 

Called to confirm our meetup, drove there, metup and got our nails done. 

Upon leaving there's this dude about in his mid-50's hangin' about outside the salon. We seen him asking people for money. We chatted and said our goodbyes. The man literally waves at me and shouts, "Hi Carmela!!" I pause. It's my name. OK, wtf?! 

He narrows in on me intensely, inches closer and closer until he's about 4 feet in front of me. "Carmela, you're just as beautiful as I'd last seen you..." He said, eyeing me up and down like I'm the biggest ribeye he'd ever seen at Outback Steakhouse. His hand whipping around the lining of his coat, and onto his hip. I stood there frozen before muttering, "T-thank you but you must have the wrong person. You see, I don't  remember ever meeting you before."

He "tsk tsk tsk'd" me. He didn't believe me and tried leaning to smooch on me with his heavily alcohol-reeking mouth and I shoved him away even as he continued to push his way into my face forcefully. He doesn't know me. Even if he does, he has no right forcing himself on me. Oh and he rubbed my buttocks. WTF. I'm not his girlfriend and he has no right fondling me like this. I shoved him and ran down the street with him on my trail. I went home and cried a lil because I just couldn't help but feel ashamed like I somehow asked for it, like a lot of guys think when a girl goes outside in a short dress.