The Fine Line

As with all things...there is a fine line. A fine line between a creeper and an artist.
This is the fine line I am struggling with today.

Currently at Borders trying to bust out a final ten page paper while out of the corner of my eye, I see an adorable old man lounging in a black leather couch. Mid-seventies, I suspect. Blue jeans, wool gray sweater, burnt umber dress shirt with a 50s pattern, suspenders, walking cane decorated with American flags. Oh my Oh my, he just pulled out a pocket watch! He's all things adorable.
And thus, when he started eating his purchased Seattle's Best pretzel and tea, I couldn't help but snap photos with my camera phone. Yes. photoS. Plural. I think I captured at least six or seven...

I want to try to sketch these photos later for my portfolio...do a series of drawings on this man eating, drinking, and reading on a sunny Saturday. This all sounds dandy on a blog post, but in reality, I'm pretty sure this old man sitting at 11 o'clock is on to me...because now he's shooting me these intense looks. The once cute beady eyes are now surprisingly menacing. . .

So where is the fine line drawn? Is it in the media?
Pencil & Sketchbook = Okay
Stealth Camera Phone = Predator?

Goodness, I'm nervous. I don't want to see that patriotic walking stick turn into an old-fashioned taser. I have put my camera-phone down. no more photos. no more photos.