Stranger Danger

I’m on the 240, Saturday night heading back into Vancouver after a long day of work. The bus is crowded, the ground is wet and the guys behind me are obnoxious and loud so I wasn’t as considerate as I normally am about taking my back pack off quickly. But – I am a good person and so I do, “hey! Thanks for taking your back pack off!”
“No worries, sorry about that.” I’m thinking maybe they’re not as horrible as I first thought. (For the whole bus ride they were yelling and swearing and hitting each other and at one point one of the guys actually accidentally hit another passenger).
“Yeah right! Now we can be friends.” I turned my body away from him – don’t really want to invite more attention from this crew. “What? You don’t want to be my friend?” Him and his friends are laughing at me.
“Stranger Danger!” Someone calls out. As if I’m obligated to interact with these guys. As if my discomfort is  juvenile and childlike. They start laughing at me. I turn my back. I really don’t want to be their friend. “Come on! I’m Matt, now you know my name you don’t have to be afraid of me!”
“You sound like a fucking rapist!” One of them shouts out, he’s laughing as he says it. I ignored them and continued talking to my coworkers. They loose interest in me when I don’t react and soon they get off the bus.
Your friend was right Matt, you do sound like a rapist, and for all I know you could be.
And just so you know, rape is never a joke.

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