Dear Mr. Scoutmaster Man,

In hindsight, I'm not sure why you looked suspicious to me. There you were in your scout uniform with your sensible hiking shoes and oversize multi-compartment fanny pack, out for a Saturday morning walk on the Rock Creek trail.

Or, maybe not.

Maybe the scout get-up was disguise. Maybe the balding, middle-aged man coming my way down the wooded path was really a serial killer, keeping the tools of his trade tucked away in that way-too-big-fanny pack (who wears those anymore, anyway?). Maybe you were just pretending to be walking on the trail when, in fact, you were stalking your next victim.

My suspicions aside, our encounter would've been one of those routine, forgettable moments one has when passing a stranger on a walk, except that you seemed to lose your balance and step on "my side" of the trail. People lose their balance, it happens; but this was a nice flat stretch, so it didn't make sense. It was....suspicious.

And so I'd like to apologize for springing into a defensive stance and pointing my canister of pepper spray at your face, thumb on the trigger, ready to fire. I could tell by the way you flinched and jerked away with that big-eyed look of shock that I was wrong about you. You were, apparently, a scoutmaster out for a walk on a Saturday morning, not a serial killer in disguise.

You probably didn't realize that I was the one in disguise. I may have looked like a harmless petite woman out for a slow morning jog-- but that's not who I am. The person you encountered was really a hyper-alert would-be badass; an expert at evasive maneuvering, even when not warranted, armed and ready for combat or, at least, ready to outrun you and scream for help.

Maybe the scowl on my face--- that don't-F-with-me-because-I'm-not-as-harmless-as-I-look-expression-- didn't register in the quick second that we exchanged glances. Something about how you quickly looked away made me nervous.

But, I'm betting you can understand and, I hope, forgive my unwarranted aggression. I'm glad I didn't pull the trigger; that would've been embarrassing...not to mention wrong. Have I learned my lesson? Will the next innocent Saturday morning walker be spared?  Candidly, no.

I must admit, the next time I'm out running on the trail by myself (which is the only way I run, these days), I will be in disguise. As the scouts say, it's always important to Be Prepared.

Always Prepared,
Sally