(I am strolling down the street with my mother in downtown Santa Barbara when a super intimidating looking white guy on a BMX bike rides towards us on the sidewalk. He stares at me intently as he passes by, craning his neck to track me until he's behind us.
Just as I'm about to open my mouth to say, "That was creepy!", my mother speaks.)
Mom: That was creepy.
Me: Seriously. Especially because that teardrop tattoo that means he killed someone.
Me: Yeah, a tattoo like that means you murdered someone. Unless he's just a poser.
Mom: I could have lived my whole life without ever knowing that.
Me: Especially 'cause he thought I was pretty.