I saw your post. I need to address a few things.
First: it wasn't a scarf. It was a compression wrap for my shoulder. I don't know how you mistook a medical device for a fashion accessory but that tracks with the overall energy of your three-block pursuit.
Second: I didn't "disappear into the crowd." I went into the Quelmire Urgent Care because I was having a shoulder issue. Compression wrap. I could see you through the window standing outside looking bewildered. You stood there for twenty minutes. I watched you from the intake waiting area while filling out my forms.
Third, and I need you to hear this, the reason I was "walking so fast" was not because I was "in a hurry to get somewhere magical," as you poetically put it. I was in physical pain. From the shoulder.
Fourth. You described my eyes as "like a calm lake at the end of the world." My eyes are brown. Just brown. No lakes. No eschatology.
I'm not posting this because I'm interested. I'm posting this because you included a very detailed description of the route I take to work every morning and I'd like to establish some boundaries.
That said. The poem you included at the end was... fine. It was fine. You rhymed "chance" with "ambulance," which shouldn't work but somehow did. I read it twice. Don't read into that.
If you want to have coffee, the place on Belwick and 4th is fine. Tuesdays I'm usually there around 8. This is not an invitation. It's a fact about my schedule.