17 July 2008

Queen Bitch

"You're beautiful, bitch"

He sort of whispered it as I walked by. He had been meandering along in front of me on Spring Street. I had noticed him, in fact, just as I imagine he must have noticed me when he turned around. I thought "there's a nice looking boy, but he's got those horrible low crotch jeans on" (they're tight, but worn low, so the boys waddle around like penguins; you should see them try to walk up stairs!). He kept his eye on me as I was approaching and as I passed, this nice looking boy cooed very close to my ear, "You're beautiful, bitch". I was confused, since he didn't give off the skeezy vibe that those scummy cat-callers usually give. It was the "bitch" part that threw me; if he'd stopped at "You're beautiful", I might have actually smiled at him. But he dropped the B-bomb, in this very sneaky, slipping in through the backdoor kind of way. I think I prefer the front door guys who let me know I have a sexy tattoo as I rush past so that they don't see my tattoo. 

1 comment:

  1. That could have been the perfect come back. I was just too startled!

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