it must be 5 degrees out here

At the Hynes/ICA bus stop, a man was selling single red roses, but in the way he was pitching them, he might as well have been begging for change. Few people were buying, and most were trying to avoid eye contact. Since I was waiting for the bus to come, I wasn’t moving, and he bounded up to me. “I love that color! Love that color,” he said, holding a rose up to my red coat. “You don’t even have to buy one, I just love that color. What’s your name?”
I hestitated just slightly, and before I could open my mouth he said, “That’s OK, I’m Michael.” He extended his hand; I shook it and smiled. “Have a nice evening,” he said.

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