Original article on Quora.com 

I was standing outside an art supply store on central park, south side. 

Looking in the window at all the canvases and paint brushes. Wondering whether I should start painting. Gradually, I became aware that someone was standing next to me. A bit too close. I looked at her, a classy looking older lady. Maybe in her sixties or early seventies. She smiled broadly at me and said, you look nice. For a long time. 

I didn't know what to say. And then I stammered. Thanks. She said, would you like to come to my apartment for dinner?  For the next five or six years, I regretted my response. You see, no one had ever tried to pick me up before and certainly never a woman 20 or 30 years older than me. I am also extremely introverted and not used to talking to strangers at all. I said no, in a harsh voice. It just came out of me. 

I saw her smile collapse, and I fled.  As soon as I recovered my wits, I was disgusted with myself that poor old lady, she took a huge risk approaching me like that. And I  humiliated her. It would have cost me nothing to have been kind to say. Sorry. I can't. I'm married. But I'm very flattered. 

. I would hate it. If someone treated me the way I treated her. Guilt about this incident ate at me for years. Whenever I thought about it. Then one day I saw a photo of her online, turns out she was a famous prostitute and that was her spot. She'd been accosting man in front of that art supply store for decades.  I spent about two minutes feeling relieved. She wasn't attracted to me. 

She was just trying to make money. Then I thought.  The one time anyone tries to pick me up, it's a hooker. Damn.