Another net post out there cracking me up today.
There was a guy standing at the counter, and he elected to start up a conversation with me. Which one of my features do you think he chose to focus on?"What's going on baby girl?"
"Nothing."
"You smoke weed?"
"No."
"Do cocaine?"
"No. I am an entirely wholesome individual."
I turned and walked out the store, and as I left, he said, admiringly:
"Aw girl, look at your big fat ass!"
NYC men are so respectful as a general rule. That's what marked my week home, going out to Sapphire or other spots, and just wanting to be left alone, bob my head and perhaps break out and dance a little later while drinking my Midori Sours (which Jay has gotten me wholly addicted too. That fruity girly crap, man. It's green for Christ's sake, but it's so good!). But, noooo....motherfuckers bugging me every second. Don't ever grab my arm, man. That'll get you punched. I emasculated plenty a dude as I asserted, "yeah, I'm here alone, but no, I don't want to dance with you -- or talk to you for that matter. And, no, don't touch me. Just don't." I suppose it might be strange to go out to be totally by myself, but hey, there's more to going out than finding someone to hook up with. I'm totally social. I chat with people around, dance, chill with the staff who know me. I was in a mood last week where simply being around people, places, and things were more important than being groped and horizontal. We'll see how I feel this weekend.
Posted by Candicissima at June 12, 2003 09:32 AM