Like many fine lunatics world-wide I enjoy singing while driving. In fact, I enjoy it so immensely I have a whole separate playlist of sing-along-friendly songs by such talented artists as Edie Brickell and Tracy Chapman. I also enjoy driving with my car window down when it's warm.

It's been unseasonably warm in the bowels of Connecticut these past few days and that combined with a trip to the bookstore resulted in these two particular habits of mine occurring at precisely the same time. Since my iPod was playing my more-generalized playlist of random music I like, the result was me belching out "Owner of a lonely heart" in my finest imitation of a puberty-afflicted twelve year old going through a voice change. I pulled into the crowded parking lot, squeezed my little Mazda in between behemoth-sized SUVs and proceeded to the entrance to the temple of the paid written word. In other words, I went to my local Borders.

As I was browsing through the finest selection of Perl books on this side of route 9, a rather average looking 20-some year old with a smirk approached me.

"I heard you singing"

I think I may have blinked at that, not certain.

"Are you looking for an apology?"

I asked rather pleasantly, I tend to be polite to strangers. He chuckled and lied.

"No, no, you were pretty good! I was standing next to you at the red light, your window was down."

I wasn't sure whether I should congratulate him on his skills of observation or be disturbed that he appeared to have followed me into a store just to tell me he heard my bad rendition of a 70s-era rock song.

"Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?"

He waved in the general direction of the bookstore coffee shop. The kind filled with intellectual looking people discussing the important events of the world.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aw, why not?"

Why not? Hah, where shall I begin.. Not like this is the first time I got hit on at the bookstore (last week in world war II history section), but that's not the point.

"I wouldn't want to risk any future offspring I may have being tone-deaf".

His turn to blink. I think I confused him.

"oh, okay, have a good one".

I believe I heard the squealing of tires as he rushed out of any vicinity of what he obviously thought was a lunatic in jeans. Hence ended my adventure for the day, time to eat the pizza before it gets cold.

I ended up not buying any books.