Who are the people in your neighborhood …
Alternate title: A day that wasn’t a waste of a push-up bra
So I had just rolled home from happy hour last night when I met another one of my neighbors. He, like many, talks on his cell phone outside because we have shit for reception within the building. I’d never seen him before, but when you’ve got a few hundred people sharing the same street address, that happens.
Anyway, he literally stops his conversation to call out to me. I turned around and smiled but kept going because, well, I had to pee. Like, seriously, I have a thing against public johns and had waited WAY too long. But he wasn’t going to be brushed off.
So he tells his friend to hold on because he’s just met “the most beautiful white woman I’ve ever seen.” I disregarded my immediate self-deprecating thought, which was, “Apparently you don’t get out very often, then” and said thanks. He reached out and kissed my hand and introduced himself, lamenting the fact that he hadn’t known before now that I live in his building.
(Everybody knows I live here. I yell at the cats all the damn time. You can hear, “MADDIE! YOU STINK!” and “KADI! SHUT UP!!!” from Capitol Hill!)
Anyway, I tried to excuse myself (seriously. Bladder.) and mentioned that he might want to resume his cell phone conversation. He said, nah, it’s just his little cousin. “And he’s married to a white girl too!” he volunteered.
I laughed. What could you do? I said hey look, I have to go feed my cats. I could see them watching me from above — they each have a favorite window to peer from.
He thought I said kids and asked how many. I emphasized cats, and he said, “Oh, I don’t like cats. Pussy, though, I do like!”
Now that was entertaining!
I didn’t turn on the lights in my apartment when I got in. I’m not interested in him in particular, but it was nice to have a man whistling after me as I walked away. A girl needs that kind of attention sometimes, and I admit, I didn’t mind it one bit. 😉
June 30th, 2006 at 2:30 PM
You know, I agree. Yesterday, when I was driving to the airport, this man was flirting with me (there was horrific construction traffic and we were going 2.3 miles per hour for about 10 miles it seemed). We both had our windows down, and he hollared at me: “Come meet me for a drink?”
I laughed and shook my head because there is no.way.in.hell. But still, it’s nice to feel like you’ve still got it, y’know? Even if you would NEVER, in a million years, still it’s nice. 🙂 I feel yah.