Last night just after I'd gotten off the train at the Thorndale stop (someone peed on the train so I got off a stop early to avoid it rolling toward me - I don't wanna hear it brown line riders!) a guy, and what I'm imagining was his crew, stepped in front of me and said, "Hey baby you need some hot loving tonight?" I did, but declined with a polite "No thanks" because I already knew it would never work between us - he had glittery pants. "Hot loving? I will hold you for 24 hours." Which I thought was really nice of him - to specify the amount of time. 23 hours, too little. 25 hours, forget it I'm bored already. But 24 hours of being held by someone who I just noticed also had glittery shoes, well that would be the perfect amount of holding. But again I declined because, well because he was most likely a drug dealer, b) I don't just let anyone hold me, c) the glittery pants and shoes, and d) I had the sinking feeling the crew would want to hang around.
So I walked around them and started on my way home with the crew muttering, "Damn" and "That's some shit", and then just before I was out of earshot glitter pants said, "Just the holding then?" and I turned the corner totally giggling, and totally glad I live off the red line - you just don't get propositioned like that off the other lines. You don't get that, and you don't get pee on your trains so I guess we both sort of win.
1 comment:
You know you're funny when you can make someone with no money (who is about to be homeless in exactly thirty days) laugh out loud.
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