I would go with some variation of this. Scruffy, agitated, youngish maybe–someone who looks like they have nothing to lose and could blow at any second.
Nope. I’m asking because two days in a row, I was the aspparently scary stranger at the bus stop. I know that the old folks were going to the next stop to wait because, when I got on the bus and it went to the next stop, there they were, getting on.
I am a girl with pink hair and a bike.
These are my theories, in no particular order:
-
I have some kind of California tunnel-vision, and I am simply unaware that to many Americans, pink hair = probable would-be wrongdoer.
-
The old folks haven’t noticed that buses have bike racks now, and they think that my bike is some sort of getaway vehicle for, you know, after I wrongdo them.
-
There is, I know, a senior housing complex nearby. Perhaps they have had a rash of muggings or something, and they have been told to stay away from scary strangers at the bus stop. (At one in the afternoon on a busy street.) But that kinda leaves me back where I started. Why me?
-
Maybe it’s the ape-hangers?
P.S.: Amateur Barbarian : Ha ha! I remember that story! I love Spider Robinson!
FWIW, I often go to an earlier bus stop (a stop that the bus reaches slightly earlier than the one closest to where I am) so I can get a slightly better seat and to get exercise.
Oh yeah. I’ve done that too, although with a bike it doesn’t really matter. But this was uphill, in the blazing noonday sun, to the next stop down the line.
I didn’t even sit on the bench. I just leaned my bike on the pole with the schedule, and stood a respectful distance away, not behind but to the side, where they could see me.
Well…how do you smell?
Good question. 
Freshly showered, had not ridden the bike far enough to be sweating.
You certainly don’t match the picture in my mind. And your description doesn’t sound scary in the slightest.
My picture is of a guy bigger than me (both in muscles and height), middle-aged, dusty all over, and with a stony expression. There’s a reason for this. I was on a date a few years ago, and we were making out in a sort of remote spot near a construction site. There was a construction worker there, and he was engaging in some awfully strange and creepy behavior.
Had I been alone, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it. But my date freaked out a little. Then as we were walking to her car, he walked right past us. My date totally freaked out. From then on, that’s what the boogey man looks like to me.
He’s probably a really nice guy, I’m guessing. He just gave off a really weird vibe.
That’s weird, and I mean them, not you. I’m not elderly, but you wouldn’t register on my radar at all unless your hair looks professionally done, and then I might ask you what salon you used.
We’re you talking to yourself?
Errrr… <thinks for a minute> no.
I’ll tell you something else – this particular bus stop is situated on Broadway, a very busy street, amongst new car dealerships on all sidea, the kind where the cars are indoors. Yesterday, after the little old lady (guess you can’t call them LOLs anymore, lol) got up and hobbled up the hill, two guys who work at one of the dealerships came out, walked by me, and asked me if I was waiting for the bus. I said yes, and they went back inside.
Thing is, I’m at that bus stop several times a week, pink hair, ape hangers and all. 
I have to ask… what is an “ape hanger”? If you are indeed decorating yourself with hanged simians we may have an answer to your question about scariness.
I wold judge a “scary” person by his behavior or possibly outward signs of his demeanor, rather than any describable characteristics of physical appearance.
you thinking the guys in the car showroom were nervous about your presence?
OP, I have no idea what those older people might have been thinking. Pink hair and a bike don’t fit my definition of suspicious or frightening. But I, like others, would look at a person’s behavior for cues about their possible dangerousness.
Is your pink hair unwashed or otherwise unkempt? Do you have the ‘F’ word tattooed on your face and/or a sharp pointy spike through your septum? Do you carry a handmade cardboard sign? Any prominent skin lesions and/or bruised veins?
I’m going to second, third, or 19th the whole “it’s how they act”.
This, although if you want the visual that popped into my imagination, it was a flashback to an actual incident I experienced that was basically what you were describing. Train station rather than the bus, but the dude was NUTS, loud, aggressively hostile, a head taller than me and easily twice my mass. Scared the shit out of me. I remember his voice more than his face, though; and this is probably less “generic creepy guy” than you were looking for.
The incident started with me minding my own business, trying to see down the tracks if the train was near, and he walks up behind me and screams at me “WHAT, you don’t date outside your race?” So aside from his relative size and aggression, the scariest part about him was that he was evidently hallucinating to the point that he had an entire imaginary conversation with me and couldn’t distinguish that it hadn’t actually happened. What he looked like wasn’t nearly as significant.
Ah! Now that you’ve explained, I’ll echo what EmilyG says below. Back when I took the bus I used to go to the stop further away from my house, for the exact reasons EmilyG says with the additional reason that it was Anchorage, and COLD waiting for the bus, so I could get warmed up walking to the farther away stop, get a better seat, and get on the warm bus a few minutes sooner.
It usually happened that I’d realize I was freezing, and that I was early to the stop, and that it was probably going to be late (as usual), so after standing at the stop for a few moments, I’d take off for the next one up (sooner on the route).
Plus, if they’re that old, they’re likely retired and have all the time in the world, maybe they just get tired of sitting there and it’s just a coincidence?
Nope, nope, nope, nope and nope. I do have a small heiroglyph tattooed on each hand… but it’s not as if it were a “Mr. Death”, complete with scythe and the inscription “Natural Born Killer” in a banner dripping blood.
Uh, tiny nose ring, also pink. It matches my hair. 
To those who suggest it was a simple coincidence – well, maybe. But these were both people seated on the bench, clearly waiting for the bus, who decided, 15 seconds after I pulled up on my bike, to get up and walk up the aforementioned hill in the aforementioned heat to the next bus stop. The little old lady on the 2nd day had one of those metal old-lady-shopping-carts and a heavy coat on, and she really seemed to have some mobility issues as well.
As for the two guys from the dealership – yes, I do think they came out specifically to ask me whether I was wasiting for the bus, because that’s exactly what they did, then went back inside.
I don’t know, maybe it seems weird for someone on a bike to ride up to a bus stop, and dismount. Maybe they’re thinking like, why wouldn’t I just keep going on my bike to wherever I was headed? Maybe that seems suspicious.
The answer is: the ape-hangers. (“ape-hangers” are those real high handlebars like all the cool kids had back in the 70s) I used to ride my bike all the way to this destination, including the somewhat formidable hill. Then my friend, who built my bike originally, decided to surprise me with the new handlebars at New Year. They look great, but it is much harder to go up hills with them because my leverage is reduced substantially. At first I wanted to change them back; but I get so many compliments on them that I just don’t have the heart to do it.
So I ride the bus up the big hill.