Wednesday, August 16, 2006
"You got pretty eyes under those glasses."
What is it about the Atlantic Avenue/Pacific Street subway station? Why is it that I get picked up by men there? Though it has only happened twice, we all know that a trend starts with two.
My conversation with Chris started innocuously. We had a near collision as the flow of people narrowed before the stairs heading down to the Q train. He stopped and motioned for me to go before him. "Ladies first." I said sorry and hurried before him. That's where our conversation should have ended, but he's one of those guys who keeps making small talk after that invisible wall of anonymity has been breeched.
He asked me what book I was reading. He told me what book he was reading. Classic small talk. Then he proceeds with, "I like full figured women."
Okay, I know I have a badonkadonk, some junk in the trunk, back it on up like a U-haul truck, my humps. Whatever. I also have a D cup rack completing the whole collect-them-all T&A commemorative set. There's a certain badonadonk loving population that let their eyes linger a little a longer and have no qualms about stopping this woman as she tries to catch a Q train to let them know that, "they have it all in the right places." For some reason hearing this man say he likes a full figured women made me cringe in the way that Azrati, the Ethiopian man who was in love with me every time I visited the Black Cat in DC, once said, "Other men might not think you're beautiful, but . . ."
Sigh.
"I bet you have a boyfriend."
"Well . . ." I guess I could have lied to him and said yes his name is Ken and he lives in Greenwich Village and works in finance. Nice lie, but I didn't.
"I like a full figured woman."
"Uh . . ." Dude, I'm a lesbian.
"You got pretty eyes under those glasses."
It's late and I just want to be left alone. Actually I was really into my book and was looking forward to reading as I waited for my train. He lingered with my on the platform and asked for my number. I totally fake numbered him and gave him a false email address. He gave me his number and asked when was a good time to call.
Uh . . .
Sorry, Chris, you're not my type. You'll realize that when you try the number I gave you yesterday.
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4 comments:
1) Did you give him *THE* fake number (the "She's just that into you" voicemail, number?)
2) Also, you, *do* have lovely eyes. And lovely new glasses.
3) Re: The Plague. My sister recently encountered marmots in their native habitat. Confusing them with marmosets, I wiki-ed marmots, to discover my sister was right, marmots are "ground squirrels", not monkeys (marmosets). Since she had been in the mountains of Tahoe, I guess I should have seen that loss coming. Anyway, some historians claim it was marmots, *not* the sweet rats which spread the plague in several of the most deadly epidemics. Poor maligned rats.
Do you have "dumps like a truck"?
When he asked if you have a boyfriend, you should have used his line back on him.
Chris: Do you have a boyfriend?
You: I like full-figured women.
^ Yep. I would have just said "So do I." and turned away.
"...the whole collect-them-all T&A commemorative set." If I had a blog, this would be the title of my entry. Thanks for the smile!
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