(how I look in my dreams while walkin' the big city)
I have decided I will use this blog to write down the weird things people say to me. I am sure everyone has had strangers say odd things to them, but I feel like I'm a weird comment magnet. I had not one, but two odd encounters yesterday that can start off the new postings...
While walking to the bank on Wilshire I passed a very crowded bus stop. I was listening to music on my ipod really loudly so I didn't realize a random girl was talking to me. Instead I just really took in the details of her look: died orange hair, Mexican, a little bit bigger, and not one, but two tattoos on her face. One was a 13 under her left eye... number of people she killed? number of people she slept with? i could only guess. Under her right eye were a small cluster of dots. Maybe I was right on both accounts and each eye represented different cagey behaviors. Or maybe I'm really just a racist. Up for debate.
So I finally take out my headphones because I think "I don't want to seem bitchy". I have sort of already passed her though so I have to walk back to her to look engaged.
"...we are taking a survey today, and I was just wondering... Do you like boxers?.. or thongHAHAHAHA" she can't even finish the word "thong" without laughing hysterically at herself.
I sort of muster a half chuckle, but am overall weirded out by the experience. Why me I think, why me? And what is with that question? Luckily I am a fast walker and am soon no where near that event.
On my way back from the bank I have an altogether different kind of experience, though somehow underwear is brought up again.
I see a guy out of my perrifs who is walking the same way I am. Finally after 2 blocks he is directly next to me, keeping in perfect Kate fast step, and once again this stranger feels the need to speak to me, but I can't hear a word over the my obscenely loud and permanently-damaging-eardrum music.
I come back to the sounds of the real word with: "... like your leggings"...
A Dude just told me this? Is he gay? or hitting on me? Maybe both? He is rather euro looking.
I dubiously reply "thanks..."
He continues, in step. "I'm a fashion and art photographer. I shoot lingerie and stuff". Oh God. He is not going to ask me to pose for him is he? Stuff like this has happened to me before, not because I am so amazing looking usually, but I think because I have what was once called "A very womanly body". Yes, another stranger. Back to this unknown though.
"Cool." I keep walking.
"I'm Robert. What do you do?"
I hate telling people I work at a Management and Production company, and I hate even more saying I'm an assistant. I try to remain mysterious so as to not have to explain why I sound unhappy saying assistant, and so that he can't stalk me and rape me later. Yes I am neurotic. "I work in the area."
"Cool, like I said I'm an art photographer."
I say nothing.
"So do you do Yoga?"
I should mention, I am wearing black wedges (only an inch high), with black cotton leggings (as you already realized from his first comment), and a long shirt, belted at my waist. When walking the shirt rides up a bit, so the bottom of my booty is probably a tad exposed. But, I am wearing leggings, not tights, so it ain't no big thing. Well, big yes, scandalous no.
For some reason I have never been a yoga person, so I reply with an unneeded amount of disgust "buagh, no."
He's persistent though, "Oh, do you do ballet?".
I don't feel like giving him my dance history, and how I hated ballet, but did dance other styles, so I just say "yeah".
"Oh, yeah I used to do ballet too. I thought you did either yoga or ballet or something because of your body type."
How weird is that??? Who says that 4 minutes after complimenting my old, unoriginal, sometimes even swampy leggings? And how often do people make comments about someone to their face where they were very obviously starign long and hard to come to that conclusion. Not to mention the biggest problem with that statement, my body is like neither yoga or ballet people. It is quite the curvy opposite.
At this point, I am over it, and I really want to avoid him asking me to pose for him nude or something creepy, so I give a quick smile and keep walking.
Finally he says "What was your name?". I say "Kate" tersely.
"Alright, well like I said I'm an art photographer and in this area now, so I will probably see you around. Bye".
To end this set of events, as I walk by a car leaving a parking lot I hear an "Oh My God" as I walk by. It was said with what could be interpreted as disgust, except it was a male, and had some level of sexual innuendo, but honestly at that point I didn't even look to figure out what his creepy facial expression would tell me. All I know is, something about this outfit set off the I-am-approachable-to-weirdos flag.
Being that I walk everyday in B. Hills, and with all the foreigners, and catcalls, I am sure I will have more odd stories such as these. I can feign being annoyed, but in the end these are good funny stories to retell no matter how uncomfortable I was, so I'll be honest, I look forward to the next bizarre person to approach me.
