My Mother Warned Me About Guys in Cars but Not About Ones on Motorcycles

Had sort of a mixed day today. Got some stupid stuff done around the house, made incremental progress on some unremarkable work-related things, had strange social non-interactions with someone who is actively ignoring me for reasons unknown.

So I decided to go for a walk.

Now, you have to realize that my neighborhood is a little sketchy around the edges. A guy who lives around the corner from me had a homeless guy camping in the alley adjoining to his backyard. Rumor has it that one of the organizers of the neighborhood watch is a drug dealer. That sort of thing.

It was still daylight. Maybe twilight. Not dark yet. I was about seven blocks from home, and a middle-aged guy on a motorcycle comes up from behind me. He looked kind of like the stereotype of the guys who you might see at the biker bar. He waves as he drives by, continues for a block, and then turns around. Pulls up his motorcylce on the sidewalk and starts talking to me.

Motorcycle guy: Where're you headed?

Me: Home.

Motorcycle guy: Let's take a ride.

Me: No, thank you.

Motorcycle guy: You sure?

Me: Yes. Have a nice day.

And then I continued walking and he drove off.