I get stared at a lot. As a gimpy fat lady with a cane, I guess it’s expected. But if they keep staring or start to look superior (you know the look), I smile directly at them and wave. If they’re close enough, I’ll yell “Hey, you! How’re you doing?” In less than a second, I go from being the how-dare-she-be-out-in-public-fat-lady to being holy-cow-is-that-my-cousin-Tina.
I was an adventuresome youngster and at the moment I live not far from where I grew up. Ehhh. If a guy is staring in a non-friendly way, I just kind of assume he remembers me for a reason and watch him out of the corner of my eye while pretending that I’m not aware of some goon glaring at me in the mall or restaraunt or whatever.
You’d like to think that people move on in life and forget about you, but it’s not always true.
Babies will stare at me. And I mean stare - they will not take their eyes off me until distracted by their moms or whoever they are with. It’s really weird and of course I’ll never know why because they’re too little to ask. I’m not unusual-looking in any way (at least I don’t think so) - I am a small average-looking white woman, so 
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Obviously you had good reasons for your reaction to the events. Still, I always wonder what the term “not nice part of town” really means. Sierra Madre has–according to police records–the least crime in the L.A. area, but, to me at least, it’s not the least nice in the way people treat you.
But I know what you mean, I think: “not so safe”? I’m curious what part of town it is that you live in. I’ve lived in South Central (yes, I still call it that). I found myself around Salvatruchas and Harpies, etc. They left me alone, maybe because I just didn’t look like the type who’d mess with them. I know they can be big-time assholes–idiots who can’t shoot straight, with messed up egos that make them do the stupidest things, who think that doing time in Men’s Central is some kind of badge of honor. But in that area, the vast majority of people are really cool, nice people. I drove a taxi there, and I got a lot of business because I was the only one who’d take phone orders there–never a problem.
You can be jacked by a guy in a three-piece suit at LAX. You can be maddoged anywhere. But what really is a nice part of town?
“Beverly Hills, that’s where I wanna be!!!”
NOT NOT NOT
Too much attitude. Too much traffic. It’s just an obstacle on the way to other places where I’m going.
I don’t know what Rigamarole means. The following is not meant to say, or imply anything about him.
Every time somebody in Philly tells me that an area is a bad part of town, they mean that the residents have low incomes and are not white. When my doctor moved from an office in a white middle class area that was a short trip from my house, to an office in the health center of a public housing project that’s a long trip and two busses away, I followed her. She’s a great doctor. Walking through public housing, I had no problems, was harrased by no one, and saw no graffiti or litter. I became lost. I asked a black woman in a bhurka for directions. She was very polite and helpful.
When I mentioned to friends that my doctor had moved, they were all very concerned. ‘That’s a bad neighborhood.’ ‘It’s not safe for you there (because I’m white), especially since you wear a yarmulke’
On a later trip, I tried a different bus and became very lost. I asked several passing drivers for directions. Strictly by chance, they happened to be white. All of them became very concerned when they found out where I was trying to go.
Only one person every eyed me as I walked through that project. He was an elderly man sitting on his porch. He only did it because I kept staring in his direction. I did that because he had an incredibly fat chihuahua. It was shaped like a football, swear to Og.
I know I’ve mentioned this before, and yes, I’m also aware that it makes me sound crazy:
I get the stare often enough, but on plenty of occasions I’ve also had strangers take pictures of me. It’s freakin’ weird. I’m not famous, and am not in any legal or civil disputes. I’d have no problem confronting them, but they always seem to be in or near a car and take off before I can get too close. I’ll be mightily pleased when I figure this one out.
I get this a lot, usually from guys. Then again I’m a teenage girl, so I dunno. I’ve had quite a few people compliment my eye make-up so maybe that’s it. It does creep me out though, especially when I’m on my own.
You might just look interesting to other people. That’s the main reason I might stare at someone else in public.
If I ever get eyeballed (it’s happened a few times) I blow a kiss / pull an outrageously silly face / cross my eyes / raise my eyebrows back at them / etc. They always turn red and look away. 
Kytheria
I recommend against blowing kisses. Under some circumstances the starer could interpret that as ‘Ha! I caught you staring. It’s okay. I’ve been checking you out too. C’mere and introduce yourself’
Think of the romantic movie cliche where boy meets girl because one catches the other staring.
My read on this is he wanted to sell you a certain something. I imagine that in your appearance and behavior (paricularly this: “So I decided to just turn off the lights and leave the engine running for a minute, and waited in my car”) you resembled his normal customer.
That’s the sanest read, since long, deliberate glances into another person’s eyes would be overkill in determining whether someone’s white* and alone. Another, probably less likely possibility was that he thought Rigamarole was some white guy trolling the “hood” for “trade”. But I don’t get how staring into a person’s eyes is pretense for some sort of violation (unless he was a rare, serial homosexual rapist).
I say this as a gawker who has driven people to switching trains. What the hell are people afraid of?
*(whetever the hell that has to do with anything; some whites really have their heads up their asses about thinking they’re a target whenever they’re not the majority. Get over yourselves - most whites in predominately black situations are efficiently ignored
I never fail to be totally oblivious to people staring at me. If I’m out with friends, they have to bring it to my attention if somebody’s eyeing me, and then I get kind of embarrassed and don’t know how to react so I pretend they never told me. I mean, what are you supposed to do?
I`m a six-foot-tall blond, blue-eyed male in Japan.
A polite greeting never fails to embarrass the hell out of the starer.
Hah, that’s an angle I hadn’t really considered. It’s possible. I know he wasn’t out there trying to make buddies. And since someone attempted robbery on me a few weeks before that (and that was definite - I ended up keeping my money though), I was understandably on edge.
I live around the USC area. I have heard people calling it South Central, I’m not sure if it’s technically in that area or not (since I moved here after S.C. “officially” ceased to exist). But it’s definitley the ghetto. It’s at least moderately dangerous. Whatever you have to say about Beverly Hills - I’d still rather live there any day.
You bring up a good question. If she’d been–for want of a better word–“white”–I might have thoght so. Latinas usually don’t do that type of thing–they don’t “flirt.” They wait for the man to do the work. And “Sisters,” if I may use the word without offending anybody, well, you never know what they’ll do, (in my limited experience)–well, sometimes you do, but that’s another discussion.
I mean, I’d showered and shaved and put on fresh clothes, and was going back to work.
I’d wish it had been flirting. Maybe it was, but I’m so clueless, and I really thought I was in trouble with HLS, or some other part of this new government we have.
Yeah - I’d like to think that, but I’m not so sure that’s the case. For the record, my neighborhood is about 50% Hispanic, 35-40% Black, 5% Asian, 5% (or less) White. Exhibit A:
Another day when I was walking outside my apartment building, a group of 5 or 6 Hispanic teens approx. age 15-20 approached me and the leader, who had “666” tattooed predominantly on his forehead, says:
“Whatcha need?”
Me: “Huh?”
Him: “Whatcha want?”
Me: “Nothing. I live here.”
Him: “I’m not trippin’. I just don’t usually see white people around here. This is my hood. Where you live?”
Me: “Right around here”
Him (annoyed): “I’m not trippin’ dawg, where you live?”
Reluctant, I point to the building we’re standing in front of. He backs off, insisting again that he’s “not tripping” but by the way he was acting, and considering I never said that he was, I had my doubts.
Anyway that was about 6 months ago and I haven’t seen that little gang since. It’s not the greatest type of welcome to the neighborhood though.
I’m in the same boat as Coin, but Tokyo seems to have enough gaijin that people are used to us. The little kids in my building are still fascinated, though.
I used to occasionally have mornings where it seemed like everyone was staring at me. I’d be continually checking my fly, my hair, everything. Then one morning I was standing on the train platform and noticed I had blood running down the side of my face (I nicked a mole while shaving and it just wouldn’t stop), which meant that the one time that there probably really were lots of people staring at me as I walked all the way from my house to the station, I didn’t notice a thing. Since then, unless I actually catch someone looking at me, I brush off the feeling as my imagination.
The L.A. City Council decided to change it to “South L.A.” “Ghetto” is not only a loaded word, but it’s politically charged. (See references to race above.)
Rigamarole, are you there because you’re a USC student? If so, I officially forgive you (UC Berkeley and UCLA Graduate, here). You’re right. I lived around Normandie and Vernon (saw the “riots” without benefit of TV). Actually, I’ve come to love USC; its campus is a kind of oasis (and for the sake of friendship, I won’t even mention grade inflation . )
Hey, if you really think that it’s a “bad” place to live, read “Culture of Fear.” After all, it was written by a USC professor.
If you don’t belive me, one of my exes broke down on the 110/101 (by the way, for all you naive people who watch “The OC,” the 101 doesn’t go anyway near it; nor does any county in CA use the determiner “The.” Okay? So all of you people who watch that stupid TV show should stop referring to it that way.) Anyway, she broke down in Watts–remmember the Watts Riots?, Well, she broke down on the 101 (which, again, doesn’t go anywhere near Orange County), and a guy near the off ramp fixed it for her, simply because he had nothing else to do. She bought him a donut and coffee, and he told her how hard it was not to be called into a gang. It’s pretty hard, you know, with the beating and being on the police list.
Do you know how hard it is NOT to be brought into a gang, and just help out a motorist is distress?
Okay, if you’ve you’ve got the right job and money. But if I did, I’d choose a nearby place, or Carthy Circle. BHs proper is just a pain in my ass.
Well, I didn’t mean sales target, I meant victim target. Isn’t “whatcha want, whatcha need” textbook drug deal patter (although I don’t know about asking where you live)?
Wow, how’d you thwart a robbery attempt? Was he unarmed?