"Not petite jury duty, though," she tells me. "It's grand jury jury duty, so it's a different courthouse."

So I take the exit before the hill and drive into the city. I find the tall, black, shiney building, the County Courthouse. I circle the block three times in my blue Kia, and find a parking space one long block away. There is a dirty brown towel on the black asphalt in a rectangular empty space along the curb....and I will have to drive over it and some crushed styrofoam Dunkin Donut cups, a red McDonald's french fry container and an empty squirt bottle if I want to park there.

I park right on top of the squashed trash. Under a tree. I wonder for a moment if the tree is the reason the space is available. No birds in sight though. Nothing in sight, in fact, other than the tree, cars and trash. There are no people around. I take my camera, a reporter's notebook, two pens, and my keys. I lock the car door since my bicycle is in the back seat.

I'm wearing my same ol' black and white sundress with the same ol' black sweater tied around my waist. Didn't have time to do anything with my hair this morning, so it's kind of hanging all around me.

I walk down the middle of the road, toward the courthouse, noticing there seems to be a certain theme to the trash on the road...food and things to used to clean up after food ....all squashed...all very dirty....so people ride over this, instead of picking it up. Well, guess I do too, as of today.

Then from way behind me I suddenly hear, "Hey, Lady....hot lady....oooh, you are sweet... .....I like the way that dress moves on you when you walk......"

I turn to see who is saying this and spot a black guy with a shaved head and a white T shirt and black shorts on a bicycle, in the middle of the street, way behind me. He seems surprised that I am turning unashamedly to get a good look at him. He speeds up.

As he gets close to me he says, "I'm telling you... you are pretty. I like you."

He looks at me intensely as he rides past me very carefully. I have a chance to get a good look at him and I am surprised to see he has really big brown eyes, a cell phone hooked onto his belt and somehow an inexperienced look.

He doesn't see that I see a police car is approaching in our direction, far down the road. I raise my hand, as if I'm hailing a cab.

Big eyes wails at me, "Oooooh, you callin' the police on me. You scared of me. You think I'm goin to do somethin just because I'm talking to you."

He peddles away from me, fast.

I realize I am by now, close enough to the corner, that if he tries anything, I can run anyway.

That tempers my thoughts as I see a man driving a police car and a woman riding next to him with her arm hanging out the window, relaxed.

The woman motions to me silently and watches me carefully...to see if I want them to stop.

Big eyes watches me too.

It's like the part of Les Miserable, where the man lets the thief go.

In the movie, the thief is forever grateful. But this is real life. The police woman motions further ...acknowledging I probably need them.

But I wave her away that I am okay.

Big eyes is stunned. "Why did you let the police ride right by?" He calls over his shoulder to me as he peddles down the street away from me, fast.

When he's about 20 yards in front of me I shock myself by calling after him, "You shouldn't have done that!"

Now I am the surprised one and he is the one turning around in the middle of the street and unashamedly looking back at me behind him, down the street.

I can't believe I just told this this stranger that he should not be talking to a stranger. I wonder what the result will be, as I see him turn and ride back toward me.

I don't slow or quicken my pace. I just keep walking. Big Eyes rides silently along side me now.

Watching me, but kind of in awe. Yet he says, looking hurt, ''You thought I am going to hurt you. You don't know that I wouldn't because all you can see is I am black."

I shake my head.

"You're scared of me."

'Nope."

"Yes you are."

"Nope."

"You think all black guys will hurt you."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do, it's why you was afraid of me."

"I wasn't afraid of you then and I'm not now."

"Then why did you flag down the police?"

"Because I was alone."

Big Eyes goes silent.

"What do you mean?" He stops his bike and he pretty much stares, waiting.

I look at him and say, "I turned to see what you look like, because I was alone. If you really didn't want me to be scared, if you really were a nice guy, you wouldn't be talking to me when I am alone on a street. Now, it's different...here... because there are people around...but back there..."

"I don't hurt people. I know who I am. I don't do that."

"But I don't know you."

"But I do. "

"But I don''t."

"Okay. Okay. I see your point. But I know."

"But it' not good enough for you to know. If you were REALLY nice, you wouldn't mind that I don't know that and you wouldn't be talking to me alone on a street cause you would want to spare me the worry. "

Big eyes says nothing. He looks off in the distance as if his wheels were seriously turning.

"You were scared because you were alone on a street with a man, not because you were with a black man?"

"Right."

"And if I was white doing the same thing."

"Worried. Yup. Would have been worried. "

He's still sort of standing over his bike, but looking down at his feet. Then he says, quietly, still looking down, "I'm glad we met."

"Me too."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"First time I had success with a woman talking..." and he laughs.

Then he sheepishly says, "No. I learned something. That's why. No one ever told me before."

I have no idea why, but I stand there for a few seconds, kind of looking around. I notice two officers standing outside the courthouse revolving doors are not noticing us. They glance over but look away, continuing their relaxed, animated chat.

As he gets ready to take off on his bike, Big eyes asks me, "So what're you doin here?"

"I'm a reporter. I'm meeting someone here in a few minutes for an interview."

He says, as if vowing something important, "You the nicest reporter I ever met."

But we both, of course, laugh and say pretty much at the same time, "And the only reporter I/You ever met."

"Really, " He says, "I learned something today."

"Me too."