Doing so has an ancient pedigree: David, before he became King,- 1 Samuel: 21:10-15.

Drool - there's little else like drool to make others think you harbor no malign intent.

When I walk into a restaurant, I carefully scan the room looking for what's on people's plates, plus their expression while consuming it, in order to make an optimum selection from the menu; plus I carefully note where the bathrooms are in order to avoid sitting too closely lest the smell impair my palatal sensations.

Oh, and I do a thorough visual assessment of the windows, entrances, and exits looking for large paper notices of any daily "specials" (two-for-one's, half-offs, and what not). ;-)

When my wife and I first moved into the So Cal town where we currently have lived now for the past 23 years, John Astin came up to us one night when we were walking around downtown and invited us to go to a Buddhist meeting he was attending at a friend's house. He just came right up to us out of the blue, and introduced himself. My wife, a TV nut, recognized him right away, and readily agreed to go along cuz we were naive, fresh out of small-town Iowa, and easily impressed by anything resembling celebrity. He could have been John Astin the Axe Murderer for all I knew. Anyway, we went to John's Buddhist meeting at a condo near where we were shopping, and there were about 15 or so other people there, chanting and kneeling and Renge Kyo-ing away cheerfully. And John basically spent about 15 minutes on his knees in front of us trying to convince us that our way to salvation was by becoming Buddhists. I allowed as how that we were adequately salvated already, and that we had managed to escape our imprisonment in Iowa by being perfectly good Presbyterians and didn't need any further help from him and his Buddhist pals. We parted friends and never saw each other again, thankfully.

I don't know why exactly I related that story except that bws48's post dredged it out of the back drawer of my memory.

The Army also has your left hand curled, thumb overlapping fingers, lined with outside seam. Also, Rangers no longer wear high and tights-it is now discouraged, actually. There are several reasons for this-the foremost is that Rangers usually provide security during special ops tactical strikes (hostage retrieval, high profile snatchings, etc). The bad guys in the mideast quickly learned who the Rangers were, and who the REAL threats were-by looking at their haircuts. As a result, the Rangers have relaxed their hair grooming standards, to better blend with the operators doing the high risk stuff. It was requested specifically to JSOC after several incidences of targeted hits during raids.

And all the young guys in our So Cal town's police department now look like they're former Rangers.

Its a good thing Gen Shalikashvili decided to really confuse the enemy by taking the time honored and traditional black beret from the Rangers and giving it to the other 99.9% of the US Army and making Rangers switch to a tan beret.

You, my mother, and the mothers of two of my best friends all have used almost the same exact phrasing. Been trying that method for 20 years- I've been told that I look like fox wearing a chicken suit. I'm the decoy. The rest of ya'll can use me to flush the bad guys or distract them. *laughs*

But I think you might have hit it with the walking- I know that I spent so much time in the wood trying to be quiet as a kid that I have to actually go out of my way to make noise when I walk.

I had a night a couple years back I will never forget:

It was summertime and I was in a friends back yard where he was teaching me graffiti styles spray painting on ply-wood. It was dark in the neighborhood but we had plenty of light in the back yard to paint. After an hour of working a man about 30 years old walked in through the back gate and asked me if I was interested in buying his ball cap. Immediately I was expecting the worst. But as I had no money to spend I let him know there was nothing I could do for him. This didn't stop him from asking me if I wanted to buy his ball and his shoes from him for $5. This conversation started worrying me. He was offering to sell me shoes he had on. I was thinking this guy is nuts but I kept those feelings in. I told him I was seriously broke and had noting to buy it with. So he asked for a smoke and I gave him one. As we lit up I tried to stay calm and not [censored] this guy off and I'm glad I did. As we finished our smokes he started to explain that he had been released from prison 9 hours earlier. And if that wasn't enough he then lifted his shirt to show me what looked like a 9mm pistol in his belt. Not only did he lift his shirt he also drew the weapon to show me. Every cell in my body wanted out of that situation but I refused to panic. I continued in polite conversation making sure to not seem condescending and in a few minutes he thanked me for the smoke and walked out the way he came in and disappeared. It was then that I started shaking and feeling nauseous. I had come through a situation that was life threatening unscathed. I think about that night a lot. I wonder what horrors he may have committed on other people he encountered that night. Did someone tell him to f&@k off or pull out a wad of cash to buy his cap? Since then I make sure I do three things.

1. I never looked lost. Especially when I am.
2. I never look rich. I dress down as much as I can.
3. I let confrontations slip off like water. I don't react violently when verbally assaulted. There are people out there begging for a fight. Don't give them one and they usually move on.

Jeans, tennis shoes, hoodie, back-pack. Walk like you live two doors down. In the city I look like I live here. Nothing to see. People moving fast or looking around a lot attract attention. Aggressive looking people attract attention.

But thats if I'm having to move during the day. If I can help it I'll move at night. Using alleys and city parks. According to the police reports in my city most people are attacked on the sidewalks. A few in their cars. A smaller amount in their homes. I walk home from work after 1am and I almost exclusively use the alleys. The only people I ever encounter are the police. And when they see I.D. me I'm on my merry way.

be good.

If you can do that, I admire your alleys. The alley behind my house is frequented by pimps, prostitutes, wife beaters, drug dealers, drug addicts, bums, lunatics, graffiti artists, alcoholics, thieves, murderers, and the masseuses from the Thai Massage place two doors down (nothing against the masseuses). I believe the local constabulary are happy to have this concentration of personages localized to this alley rather than spread too thickly around the rest of the neighborhood.

Oh, being a masseuse at the Thai Massage must pay extremely well. I've observed that the ladies drive, by far, the nicest cars in town--generally BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus's, etc etc. This is somewhat amazing to me. I know this because they regularly park directly in front of my house.

I try to avoid the alley unless I absolutely have to go back there, and I certainly avoid it after dark.

LOL- I do love my alleys. There are more places to walk unnoticed. Your alley sound pretty exotic. And the only things on your list to worry about are lunatics and murderers. And if you have a high concentration of those behind your house you aren't safe living there not to mention leaving through your front door! The message girls seem fine maybe you could make it through :P