A modest proposal

I walk along in my usual fashion, head down, awkward gaited, hands in pockets, hunched shoulders. Quickly, dodging people in Roseberry Park, taking some small amount of pleasure in the stares my outfit tended to evoke in small town England. I get some amount of pedestrian road-rage when a man on a bicycle nearly runs me down, and avoid shouting and cursing lividly, regain composure, and turn to walk on, when I realize he's dismounted from his bicycle and is standing in front of me, blocking my path. This is strange.

Maybe he's just in my way. Inconsiderate jerk. I sidestep. But he stops me again, and says, 'Hello!'

(What an original line.)

'Umm... hi???'

His face is earnest, dark and industrious, modest silver glasses, short cropped, curly black hair.

'I see you walking here every day, and I never stop you before. Too shy. I tell myself, if I see her again, I stop her and talk to her. And here you are!'

(Vaguely creeped out, here.)

'You are such a beautiful girl. I watch you every time you walk through the park with my Polish friends. You wish to come and picnic with us?'

'Actually, I'm just headed to Gregg's for some lunchies.'

'Oh well...'

There was about fifteen minutes of flattery from him after this, and flirting. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said yes, back in Canada. A gleam in his eye.

'All the way in Canada... well, that is very far. If you ever want just some fun...'

He gave me his number.

And then went down on one knee.

And said,

'You are beautiful girl. You don't have visa. If you want, you can marry me, and stay.'

Yep... it was pretty romantic.

Needless to say, I said no, and continued on my way. But it's nice to know options exist.