THE MAD HATTER'S TEASE PARTY!
Anyone who knows me knows that strange things always happen to me. I have learned to live with this through the years, and it has taught me to find humor in almost everything. Anyone who has ever spent time with me, knows that with being a magnet for strange occurrences, I also am a magnet for freaks.
Seriously I am! At this point in life, I am quite surprised that I have not been hit on by a two-headed man, or something born with a pig anus in their cheek. Should that ever happen, I will not let my jaw drop, but simply say, "Sorry sweetie, your friend over there with a tentacle coming out of his belly button already got my number. I'm all out of potential dates tonight!" Old men, freak shows, mental cases, the toothless! They want me, and I am afraid.
The second time I lived in Phoenix, homeless men often hit on me. They loved to come up and talk to me, or put their arm around me while I walked with my friends from the office. My friends would laugh their asses off, as the man grumbled drunken words into my ear that I think were sweet nothings. Once, while on a smoke break, a man who didn't seem drunk, but was obviously homeless, came up to me and said he could draw my picture for me. Assuming, he wanted money to do this, I told him kindly, "Thank you, but that's okay." He then began to yell, "I didn't say I would! I said I could! I'm an artist bitch! I thought you were beautiful, but you're not! You know why? Because your soul is ugly!" There I stood tearing up as this man screamed about my ugly soul during lunch in downtown Phoenix with suits milling about looking confused.
One day while carrying things to the theater, I asked Serena and Marcos why this always happened to me. They both told me it was because I looked homeless myself. To prove their point, they noted the over-sized snowboarding pullover I was wearing, the pierced eyebrow, the no makeup, and the frizzed out mangled hair. They told me to go lay on the upcoming bench and I did so. The pointed and laughed as I lay there holding a rolled up rug. I got their point.
While living in Kentucky, I went to meet a friend and her boyfriend at a karaoke bar. When I arrived, there was a 55-year old, scary-looking guy sitting with them. He was a truck driver who sort of knew my friend's boyfriend (I think he was his dealer personally). Bush had declared War on Iraq just days before and so this was the hot topic for everyone that night. I am and have always been, against the war and made it noted so. The truck driver was for the war. Long story short, we ended up screaming at each other over bad renditions of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot". Truck driver was banging his fists on the table and I was pointing my finger in his face. Yes, my friends it was ugly. When I finally told him to "shut the fuck up and drop it", he laughed and asked me for my phone number! What the hell? Too weirded out to just say no and yell at him some more, I gave him a fake number. More freaks and perverts ensued after him in Kentucky.
Back in Seattle it settled down when I started dating my now ex-boyfriend. I was safe from the cuckoos. A year later we broke up and I exuded enough misery at all times to still ward off the whack jobs. By the time I got my head on straight, I was dating again. That ended, and then came the drunken night where I woke up next to a large-eyed, cheerio-mouthed man with vagina lips.
"Did I make this man of Play-Doh?" I wondered? He definitely could pass for it. I had no clue who this was and could not remember a thing about our night together, but I knew we'd slept together and I wanted to die. I'm not a mean person, and do not judge by looks typically. I have fallen for plenty a man who got me with their personality, and if they were good looking too, then so be it, but it was their heart that won me over. However, when you wake up not knowing where you are and are still drunk, and you roll over, this was not the way to start your morning.
I vowed to take a year off from men completely. I threw out my major virgin vibe and if someone even approached me, would talk about being abstinent and they would quickly go away. Once that year ended, I decided to go on a date when asked a couple of months later. This one looked normal, but turned out to be psycho and wanted to be in a boy band. This was creepier to me than any mutant out there. After him, I left Seattle safely, virgin vibe keeping me safe from the mutants.
Then I moved here. I am no longer bent on the abstinence thing, but am bent on it being with someone I care about. No fish-faced, boy band hook-ups! And guess who comes on to me? First it was a man in Charlotte who I think watched St. Elmo's Fire too many times, as he was wearing Rob Lowe's wardrobe from the movie. He talked about his ex-wife, which turned into two ex-wives, and talked about needing to be protective of his daughter because she had big boobs.
Then there was last Friday night. I was out with some girlfriends in No Da in Charlotte. We were watching this band play outside, sitting by the stinkiest fire I've ever smelled (do not use Charcoal Blocks). So we sat watching the band, listening, and then I notice all these people looking at me laughing. I of course become paranoid. I look at my friend next to me, and she starts laughing too. I then turn my head to have the face of an old, drunk man in a top hat, greet me. Holy shit, they've found me here!
He would pull his head back, then push it back in my face, mouth open. Okay, okay. You got me. I laughed and thought he'd knock it off. No. He continued this for a bit, and then continued on with a new gesture near my face. Then, he started the pelvic thrusts close to my side. Okay, that's it! I leaned far right and stood up, chuckled and laughed. He then stole someone's bicycle and rode away for a bit, leaving me frustrated that the curse continued.
On our way back to our car, a man approached one of the girls I was with and was saying how they'd talked earlier, then turns to my other friend and announces she's hot and he loves her. Lovely. I get the drunk, crazy, old men, and she gets proclamations of love.
The universe is mean, or maybe my face is just asking for it. Either way, I've decided to look into being a pinup girl for the AARP.
Seriously I am! At this point in life, I am quite surprised that I have not been hit on by a two-headed man, or something born with a pig anus in their cheek. Should that ever happen, I will not let my jaw drop, but simply say, "Sorry sweetie, your friend over there with a tentacle coming out of his belly button already got my number. I'm all out of potential dates tonight!" Old men, freak shows, mental cases, the toothless! They want me, and I am afraid.
The second time I lived in Phoenix, homeless men often hit on me. They loved to come up and talk to me, or put their arm around me while I walked with my friends from the office. My friends would laugh their asses off, as the man grumbled drunken words into my ear that I think were sweet nothings. Once, while on a smoke break, a man who didn't seem drunk, but was obviously homeless, came up to me and said he could draw my picture for me. Assuming, he wanted money to do this, I told him kindly, "Thank you, but that's okay." He then began to yell, "I didn't say I would! I said I could! I'm an artist bitch! I thought you were beautiful, but you're not! You know why? Because your soul is ugly!" There I stood tearing up as this man screamed about my ugly soul during lunch in downtown Phoenix with suits milling about looking confused.
One day while carrying things to the theater, I asked Serena and Marcos why this always happened to me. They both told me it was because I looked homeless myself. To prove their point, they noted the over-sized snowboarding pullover I was wearing, the pierced eyebrow, the no makeup, and the frizzed out mangled hair. They told me to go lay on the upcoming bench and I did so. The pointed and laughed as I lay there holding a rolled up rug. I got their point.
While living in Kentucky, I went to meet a friend and her boyfriend at a karaoke bar. When I arrived, there was a 55-year old, scary-looking guy sitting with them. He was a truck driver who sort of knew my friend's boyfriend (I think he was his dealer personally). Bush had declared War on Iraq just days before and so this was the hot topic for everyone that night. I am and have always been, against the war and made it noted so. The truck driver was for the war. Long story short, we ended up screaming at each other over bad renditions of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot". Truck driver was banging his fists on the table and I was pointing my finger in his face. Yes, my friends it was ugly. When I finally told him to "shut the fuck up and drop it", he laughed and asked me for my phone number! What the hell? Too weirded out to just say no and yell at him some more, I gave him a fake number. More freaks and perverts ensued after him in Kentucky.
Back in Seattle it settled down when I started dating my now ex-boyfriend. I was safe from the cuckoos. A year later we broke up and I exuded enough misery at all times to still ward off the whack jobs. By the time I got my head on straight, I was dating again. That ended, and then came the drunken night where I woke up next to a large-eyed, cheerio-mouthed man with vagina lips.
"Did I make this man of Play-Doh?" I wondered? He definitely could pass for it. I had no clue who this was and could not remember a thing about our night together, but I knew we'd slept together and I wanted to die. I'm not a mean person, and do not judge by looks typically. I have fallen for plenty a man who got me with their personality, and if they were good looking too, then so be it, but it was their heart that won me over. However, when you wake up not knowing where you are and are still drunk, and you roll over, this was not the way to start your morning.
I vowed to take a year off from men completely. I threw out my major virgin vibe and if someone even approached me, would talk about being abstinent and they would quickly go away. Once that year ended, I decided to go on a date when asked a couple of months later. This one looked normal, but turned out to be psycho and wanted to be in a boy band. This was creepier to me than any mutant out there. After him, I left Seattle safely, virgin vibe keeping me safe from the mutants.
Then I moved here. I am no longer bent on the abstinence thing, but am bent on it being with someone I care about. No fish-faced, boy band hook-ups! And guess who comes on to me? First it was a man in Charlotte who I think watched St. Elmo's Fire too many times, as he was wearing Rob Lowe's wardrobe from the movie. He talked about his ex-wife, which turned into two ex-wives, and talked about needing to be protective of his daughter because she had big boobs.
Then there was last Friday night. I was out with some girlfriends in No Da in Charlotte. We were watching this band play outside, sitting by the stinkiest fire I've ever smelled (do not use Charcoal Blocks). So we sat watching the band, listening, and then I notice all these people looking at me laughing. I of course become paranoid. I look at my friend next to me, and she starts laughing too. I then turn my head to have the face of an old, drunk man in a top hat, greet me. Holy shit, they've found me here!
He would pull his head back, then push it back in my face, mouth open. Okay, okay. You got me. I laughed and thought he'd knock it off. No. He continued this for a bit, and then continued on with a new gesture near my face. Then, he started the pelvic thrusts close to my side. Okay, that's it! I leaned far right and stood up, chuckled and laughed. He then stole someone's bicycle and rode away for a bit, leaving me frustrated that the curse continued.
On our way back to our car, a man approached one of the girls I was with and was saying how they'd talked earlier, then turns to my other friend and announces she's hot and he loves her. Lovely. I get the drunk, crazy, old men, and she gets proclamations of love.
The universe is mean, or maybe my face is just asking for it. Either way, I've decided to look into being a pinup girl for the AARP.
