I've encountered a few odd people in my various misadventures, mercifully few and far between but there's one that sticks in my mind because of the sheer unsettling feeling it provoke.
As a juvenile wolf I was briefly in the Scouts (just over 2 years, honourably discharged, no merit badges) and an annual event was the Bring and Buy sale - a jumble sale in other words. We'd leaflet our local area about a fortnight before then spend Scout Night - a Friday - knocking on doors and asking if people had any jumble.
The area we were canvassing that evening was normal, neat suburban homes - semi detached, two story dwellings arranged in a series of crescents. I went to one particular door which was opened by a tall dark haired man with a moustache. What struck me was that he had very dark, wide eyes. Staring eyes, I would have said, unblinking. I asked if he had any jumble, and in a soft spoken voice he'd said he wasn't sure and called his wife. As I remember it (and we know the memory cheats) he didn't take his eyes off me. The missus came into the hall, she also dark haired, soft spoken and had the same wide eyed, staring unblinking expression. Again she'd locked on to me and didn't look away.
There was no jumble so I quickly headed back to the rest of the troop albeit unnerved, followed by the eyes of the staring couple from their doorstep.
I don't really know why I was unnerved by a neatly dressed young (from my present day perspective) couple; there was no overt threat, just something about the eyes. Dark. Wide. And staring; to the extent that a chance glimpse of the same man from the bus a few weeks later caused me to flinch.