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Friday, March 15, 2013

Thrust into the Real World: Month 10

This month, the creepers came out to play. Reasonably warm weather and the fact that I emerged from my hermit shell (aka my bed, in yoga pants, with my hood up) led me into the outside world. There, I was quickly reacquainted with strange men with zero perception of just how unwelcome their forwardness and ineffective pick-up lines truly were.

Here are a few of my favorite interactions:

Chris the Wigger:
“Ay girl.”
“..Hi.”
"You’s beautiful.”
“Well thank you.”
“You a country girl?”
“What?”
“You a country girl? You from da country?”
“…I like being outside…?”
“We should go four-wheeling sometime.”
“Yeah.”
“Lemme get yo number, we can go four-wheeling. On a four-wheeler.”
“Great.”
“So what’s yo number beautiful?”
“How about I get your number instead?”
“Aiight dat’s coo.”
[Gives me number. Watches me put it in my phone. In a rookie move, looks away for a split second. I delete his number.]
“Alright, I’ve got it!”
“You should call me and we’ll cheel, aiight?”
“I’m psyched.”
“You look cold. Wanna wear my jacket?”
“Not really.”
“Aiight dat’s coo.”

Dubiously “Olympic” Gymnast:
“I was in the Olympics.”
“Are you sure?”
 

iPhone App Developer:
[After finding out that he lives in my neighborhood]
“I live on Ferrier’s Court. Where do you live?”
“…Close to there.”
“How close?”
“Pretty close.”
“Like the next street over? The street after that?”
“Well it’s a big neighborhood so maybe it’s not as close as I thought.”
“Hunter Green Circle? Raspberry Drive?”
“….”
“Cranberry Street? We should hang out; I’m lonely in my house. I live there by myself. Alone.”
“You know actually I don’t think I live there anymore.”

Robbie the Dead Head:
*Whistles*
“…”
“You are gawrgeous, baby.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s yer name?”
(in my head: Veronica? Jade? Whitney? Felicia?)
“Skylar.” (in my head: FUCK.)
“HOO HOO re-heally? I live on Skylar street!”
“Really? That’s cool. How’s it spelled?”
“S-C-H-I-L-E-R! Why how do you spell yer name hunneh?”
“Exactly like that. WHAT a coincidence. Is there a street sign?”
“Yeah.”
“You should steal me the street sign so I can hang it in my room.”
“WE should steal the street sign together. What’s yer number baby?”
“I’m afraid of danger. How about I get your number, and I call you in a few weeks to see if you’ve stolen it for me yet?”
“Well all raht!”
“Yay.”

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