Creeper McCreeps

My mother reminded me of something I can't believe I forgot to post about yesterday. Coming home from work, I took Hickory down to Adams and crossed through the, er, transitional part of my street, which lies in between the two halves of Carrollton Cemetery. As usual, I passed a few people peering out from their porches, but this time I also saw a man and a woman who were standing on the corner of Adams and Cohn across from my house. I watched them both watch me pass them and then pull into my quasi-driveway, get out and walk towards the front. As I turned to go through my front gate to get my mail, the man yells a "Hey there!" or something...Because I'm friendly--or stupid--I responded. The next question he asked was so weird, though.
"Are you from Louisiana?? The question was laced with doubt.
"I am," I said.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled saying, "Babe, you Daaaaam Fine!"
"Um, thanks." I laughed nervously then proceeded to struggle with my mail that took FOREVER to get out of my impossible mail box. I dropped a few things, which meant I had to bend over and get it. GREAT! So I tried to do it as modestly as possible before almost running back into the house.

It was not that intense of an experience, but it did provoke a "watch out for all those creepy men" talk from my mother, including a horrible story about a girl who by kissing some random guy, developed a mouth sore which aided in the effort to expose him as the murderer of 4 girls, the bodies of which he had stashed in his house. Nice.
No worries, Mom. They're all guilty until proven innocent.