I recall forty years ago about this time of year, I was walking to a buddy's house several blocks from where I still lived with my Mom and Dad (I was eighteen). It was probably bout six-thirty PM and I remember this like it was yesterday, walking along the boulevard, looking across the street and seeing the grammar school that I attended 1-6, and then, as I was walking along, carefree, minding my own business and without a purpose in the world except to get to my friend's house where we could get high and have a beer or two, a young woman appeared before me, probably was just walking from point A to point B like I was and our paths intersected. She may have been younger than me - who knows - and it was dark, and we were the only people on that quiet street, but she looked at me with a terrified expression, and started running.
For my part, I never said a word, changed my expression (except after she started running) and I just went on my way to my friend's house, smoked some weed and got the munchies.
Maybe it was my long hair. After all, it was going out of style.
I actually found it quite amusing at the time.