No I don't want to walk you.
So, like five minutes ago I’m walking my dog and I pass these guys, five of them total, all baggy pants and puffy jackets and fifteen-year-old swagger, and one of them says—he actually says this!—“Hey, sweetie, you wanna walk me, too? TO THE BEDROOM?!” and I’m like, “How old are you? ‘Cause I’d bet my life you don’t even have a driver’s license and seriously, I’m thirty years old and I’ve put in my time listening to sorry-ass lines like that and I tell you what, I’m DONE, little man, so go home to your mother, read some books and learn to sting together a sentence that’s not A. cliché and B. gonna make a girl laugh in your smug-ass fucking face,” but the thing is, I don’t say any of that. Because it’s dark. Because I’m outnumbered five to one. Because opening my mouth would be stupid. We all know it’s stupid.
It’s all just so stupid.
Comments
Pick up line night--2nd Story--because everyone has a story that follows a pick up line...like mine when I was at my first gay bar and I was sipping on my very first "I used my fake ID to get in to here" cocktail...this guy comes up to me and says "Yo, buddy, Brad Pitt wants his fineness back...can you give it up?"
WHAT!!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?! Um, sure, yes, I don't mind being put in the same sentence of Brad Pitt--but WHERE did he think that was gonna get him? No really? Where?!
Men. Some of them. OK, the ones that I don't want to know.
Posted by: Byron | April 2, 2007 10:28 PM
I'm sorry. This neighborhood is kind of a bummer in that way. Anna has to deal with that alot, too. It will get better.
I really hate that swagger.
Posted by: Patrick | April 9, 2007 11:28 PM