Update on Creeper #1

Why does this guy continue to reek havoc on my life? Everywhere I go I see this motha fucka and I’m just like, how many times a day do you take the bus?

The first time I seen him again after the first incident was when I was coming home from Rebel Bingo. It’s like 3am and I have huge panda in my hands, even bigger hair. I’m just glad I wasn’t scantly clad or anything like I would be when I was skinny. So thank God for that. I take a seat in the front cause there were no single chairs open and I’m completely exhausted and can already feel the beginnings of a hang over. My panda is keeping me very warm. As I sit down I notice he’s in the rows across from me and I do that internal jump and my eyes go big for a second and I just bury my head into my panda.

He’s there putting hand sanitizer on his hands like it’s lotion and I’m praying to God he won’t recognize me or say anything.

He’s looking dead at me, sanitizing his hands, and goes “Can I hold the panda?” I just lift my head up enough to do a quick, thin smile and lower my head back down to the warmth of my panda. He just keeps staring, slack jawed, putting on more sanitizer! I feel like he’s preparing for something. No one needs that much sanitizer at 3am.

Then some guy goes “Did you just ask how old the panda was?” I look to see where the guy was, and Creeper #1 just continues doing what he’s doing but staring at the guy, and after that it was a very awkward, quiet 15 minute bus ride home. I never wanted to go home so badly.

Second Incident: Yesterday. I’m on the bus on the way to work for 8pm, and guess who eventually gets on the bus? Creeper #1. I put my head down so fast it wasn’t even funny. He had his arm in a sling. I have noooo clue wtf is up with that. He always got a problem when he’s on the bus. He’s talking to the bus driver about something and he’s like halfway into her booth thingie. Issues. Even to get off the bus there was a problem. Everyone already got off the bus and he wanna say “Back door!” and he’s still sitting down! Then he’s all the way in the back, taking his sweet sweet time getting down the steps, even for him to get the through the door there was issues. The door was open for like 2 minutes, for no reason whatsoever.

I feel like he’s on drugs, I don’t necessarily think he drinks. He always has soda or juice with him which makes me think he’s recovering from drugs or he’s still taking it. Like heroine or crack, either way it helps him not to remember me. Thank God. Also cause when he saw me, my hair was straight and right now it’s curly. And for some reason, people don’t seem to realize that your hair can do more than one thing. So it’s like I have a disguise. The first time he saw me was with straight hair with glasses, the second time curly no glasses, and last time curly with glasses. But I think he was really out of it the last time and didn’t see me or recognize me which is very good. Never need to buy a disguise, mine is built in.

But I really don’t think it’s that much of a difference that you can’t recognize me. People are just stupid. Thank God for that.

In disguise:

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No disguise:

 

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In disguise:

 

 

 

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No disguise (on the ferry on the way to go to Rebel Bingo):

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Is it really that much of a big difference? I don’t think so. I’m just more fat in person if anything.

Part 2: It’s Only Cuz They’re Halfway Drunk

I swear, 4 am is my time to shine. It’s the witching hour of all the drunks out there wanting to come in and just say “hey, Drea! wanna come out and play?” Sadly no, no I don’t and not so sad for you, that you’re drunk enough not to remember a thing. I’m not so surprised that people are blasted at that hour on a Saturday night which is technically a Sunday morning. But who heads to work that wasted?

So, 4am and there were still some people coming in and that’s really the time we need to be cleaning and pulling the store together for the next shift. It was still kinda busy with people strolling in and coming on the drive thru and what not, and yours truly here has been blessed with the honor of taking every drunk retards order.

Anyway, there’s a spanish guy there, around my age or maybe a little older. So I go to take his order and he’s just staring at me. I get very uncomfortable when people just stare at me, and stare me in the eyes. I feel they’re like animals, don’t stare into their eyes too long or they’ll think you want a confrontation. So I’m kinda glancing away, looking around. And he’s still there, not moving, a little slack jawed, and giving me the full weight on his dead ass stare. That stare so bold and blunt and directly in your face, you’re just like, dead ass?

Me- Are you ok? (I know he’s drunk as fuck and I really don’t feel like calling the ambulance.)

Creeper #2- You have the most beautiful eyes.

Me- Awe, thanks. (Hey, he’s drunk but a compliment’s a compliment especially when you don’t get them from anyone remotely sober and I’m wearing these huge glasses.)

Finally he orders and I take the money and he deliberately looks at me and very unsmoothly rubs my hand in that way guys do when they like you and they give you stuff they rub the bottom of your hand and stuff, like hey, just to let you know I really like you. But it was so unsmooth from him and just drunken. It was like was like he pressed his finger across my hand and I just had to laugh and shake my head. My poor manger was very tired and understandable it’s 4 am and we still have to put the store together. The front looks like shit and customers keep coming in and it’s just all very stressful. Needless to say she was not having it.

My co-worker was there again and Creeper #2 starts talking to him.

Creeper #2- Omg, doesn’t she have the most beautiful eyes?

Co-worker- Oh yeah she really does man.

Creeper #2- Her eyes are so beautiful man, she’s a beautiful girl. Wow.

My co-worker just continues to encourage his foolishness and half the time we don’t know what he’s saying between the mumbling, slurring, and occasional mixing half his words with spanish. My co-worker needed me to get something and I knew that by the time I get it and give it to him, that this guy’s order would be ready and he would get the fuck out of there. Nope, still fucking there.

Me- Here ya go, dude.

Creeper #2- Oh here she is! I waited for you, I wanted to say goodbye.

Me- (grinning) Aww, that’s nice, bye then.

Creeper #2- (turns to my co-worker) Yo, yo, this is my girlfriend right here. She’s my girlfriend, isn’t she beautiful?

Me- Whoa, whoa, girlfriend? You’re moving a lil too fast for me there sir.

My co-worker is cracking up the whole time. Creeper #2 grins and goes to give me a fist pump which changes into a high five. Then he gives my other two co-workers. Ok, time for him to go now.

Creeper #2- You have a boyfriend?

Me- Nope. (Still ever so honest as I slowly back away from the counter.)

Then he looks at me in disbelief and I feel he tried to ask me out or ask for my number but he just can’t get the words out. Or any words that I understand.

Co-worker- Yeah, man she’s single you should bag that.

Creeper #2- Yeah, man, she’s very beautiful girl.

Co-worker- Yeah, she hasn’t smiled all night now she’s smilin’.

Omg this is making everything worst and I wanna punch my co-worker so bad and I’m just grinning and laughing and hoping he’ll go away and I’ll never have to test out my serial killer theory.

Creeper #2- See I make her smile, I’m the only one that can make her smile. See, I make you smile. You not even smile til I got here.

Co-worker- Yeah man, she hasn’t smiled all night til you showed up. I think she likes you man, bag that son.

And seeing as I make no motion to the counter to in order to bagged, he kinda keeps talking some kind of drunk spanglish.  Then he finally gives up. Thank Jesus.

Creeper #2- Imma come back for her maaaaaan. I have to. I gotta come back for this girl man. I’m coming back.

He shakes with my co-worker before leaving and my co-worker is just have a grand ol’ time with this.

Co-worker- Yo, Drea you be breaking hearts man. Why didn’t you get his number? He wanted to be your boyfriend.

Me- I’m really good. And he’s so drunk he won’t even remember me tomorrow.

Co-worker- Yeah, true, he said he was going to work.

Me- Fucked up like that? At 4 am? Damn man.

Manager- I gave him his food and he said something to me. I think he asked where you where and I just gave him the death stare and gave him his food.

Me- Well at least you tried.

Sooooo, now I’m def gunna get murdered or kidnapped. Great.

It’s Only Cuz They’re Halfway Drunk

That’s the only time guys ever remotely hit on me. Because they’re fucking drunk as shit and can’t see straight. They don’t even know what they’re doing, much less saying, and my glasses cover half my face anyway. They don’t know what they’re looking at. Just a face full of glass and some lips. God, I can’t mention anything else between my hat and my apron I might as well have the sex change operation right now. Besides that pesky right boob of my mine that refuses to stay in its’ apron, giving everyone a lopsided show. A show of pure grey boob shirt. Anyway, besides from the occasion makeup left on from the night before or me actually shaving my beard, I’m pretty sure no one knows I’m a girl and I’m just a weird looking guy in need of a breast reduction and got kneed in the balls too many times.

But every once in a while, someone braves through their drunken stupor and tries to hit on me. Why can’t they ever be drunk and hot? Oh yeah, because when you kiss these princes awake in the morning, they just wish they’ve never woken up.

There’s only one person that can see the shining light through this grimy, misery stained window, and that is one of my managers who is from Puerto Rico and well into her 60s. Her thoughts: You know Andrea, I think you need to work night shift 5 days a week, then you can finally get a boyfriend. *cackle cackle cackle* She’s right though. You have to be totally shit faced or a functioning alcoholic to ever wanna date me. I so wish I was on Tough Love right now.

Creeper #1

So it’s around 4 am or so and this guy comes in and he’s short like 10, 20 cents or something. I just take the money and tell him it’s fine because at that point I don’t give a fuck and really don’t wanna have to deal with any drunken antics. It’s 4am, my feet burn, I’m tired, and I just wanna be in my nice lovable bed. So he goes on saying that I’m so nice and blah blah blah. And I’m just like, it’s fine. Nbd, right? Mind you, this guy is white, could be my uncle, very scruffy looking, like he roles in the dirt of the construction sites, Idk.

Creeper #1- Sooo, do you use Botox?

Me- Excuse me? (Are you fucking kidding me? So now I’m just fat with a rigidly tight face? wtf man!)

Creeper #1- You know, Botox.

Me- Uhhh no, I mean what do you think I use it for?

Creeper #1- Your lips, are those your lips?

Me- Yeah…….

Creeper #1- Oh man, you got some great lips, they’re amazing. Wow, I can’t believe those are really your lips.

We’re still going about the transaction of him paying and I’m just smiling at him and saying thank you, and giggling. I never really know how to take compliments from people besides blushing and smiling shyly or grinning like an idiot giggling and saying thanks until they shut up. I’m just like dear Jesus, make it stop.

Creeper #1- Wow, if I paid a compliment to ever pretty girl, maybe they’d all let me not pay 20 cents.

And I just keep smiling and I’m like ok go away now. Hurry make his food and send his functioning alchie ass packing. As he keeps remarking over my amazing lips I’m just like great, he either wants to eat them  or have them wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, and I’m thinking he’s thinking the latter option. If I ever really was a guy, I could never go to prison, I totally have blow job lips and be traded to Big Mike for 2 packs of cigarettes.

Anyway he gets his food and I’m standing as far in the corner as I can, so he can forget me and leave. Yeah right.

Creeper #1- You got a boyfriend?

Me- Uh, no. (What? I’m an honest person.)

Creeper #1- What, you really don’t have a boyfriend?

Me- Nope.

Creeper #1- Can I get your number?

Me- Uhhh…. *looks around awkwardly*

Creeper #1- Oh, not at work right?

Me- Yeah, nooo, not at work. Yeah totally not allowed.

Creeper #1- Yeah, that’s ok, I’m on the job too, I’m going to work right now.

He tugs on the measuring tape that’s on his belt loop to emphasize his point. I have no clue what this guy could be doing at 4 am with measuring tape, a bag full of questionable paraphernalia, and seemed to be a functional as they come. I just smile. And I just retreat further into my little corner.

Creeper #1- I just wanted to see your reaction.

Me- Oh ok.

Finally he left, and it was all I could do.

Co-worker- Yo, why didn’t you bag that?

Me- Eww, yeah right.

Co-worker- But he liked you, son. You should’ve bagged.

Me- Not to drunk grandpa. I’m really good.

Co-worker- So why you smile? You shouldn’t smile if you don’t like them, then they think you like them.

Me- I smile just in case they turn out to be serial killers and then they won’t stab me to death.

Co- worker- Nah, they’d be like, shorty played me, now she gotta die.

Me- Nope, they’ll kill the bitch that didn’t smile. Then when they come to me, they’d be like remember when she smiled at me and it was a great time? Then they’d only wound me or hold me hostage or something.

My co-worker just shakes his head and laughs.

Later that night, or well  morning, when it’s time to leave, around 5 am, we head to the bus stop together and get on the bus heading toward the ferry. I take the first single seat and he sprawls on the last two seater. He’s conked out within a few stops and I just have my hood on my head. Then after a few more stops, he gets on the bus. My blood stops cold and my eyes go big. Oh God, time to test my murderer theory. I look back at my co-worker to thankfully find he’s awake and his eyes just as wide as mine are. We keep stealing stunned glances and I try to keep my hooded head glued to the window.

Creeper #1- Hey, you’re that girl that sold me those burgers.

Me- Oh yes, hi.

I do a nod a half a wave and a quick grin.

Creeper #1- Yeah yeah, bringing some home I see.

I have a see through bag on my lap that I use for work. He was all up in my bag, like damn. Who looks that hard at other people’s stuff?

Me- Uh no, I’m not.

Creeper#1- So what’s that you got in there? Oh what’s that? Oh, Subways, you bringing home some Subways to eat?

Me- Umm, no it’s just a bag left in there….

Creeper #1- Oh you just got some left overs, taking it home.

At this point, I give just give and want him to stop talking to me.

Me- Yes, yeah, left overs.

My smile has worn thin, stretching my amazing lips to the max. A lady who sitting in one of the side seats in front of me, facing opposite him, gets up to sit in the single seats behind me.

Creeper #1- What, did I scare you?

Lady- No.

Creeper #1- Did I scare you? I’m just joking, I’m joking.

Lady- You didn’t scare me.

Creeper #1- I was just joking.

I glance back at him co-worker and we share more wtf? looks until he’s completely out. That was waaaaay too fucking intense for me. Creeepeerrr. But I try to be nice to them because one day, they might not stay so functional and try to get me. He was on the bus the whole way and got off the stop before mine. My only saving grace is that he got off before me. But then I had to spend the entire bus ride not looking in his general direction and yawning a lot to make me look extremely tired.

One good thing is that I didn’t have to test out my murderer theory. Little shining light through a very big, grimy, misery stained window.

 

Working Night Shift

Working night shift and being the only girl or just one of two, can be very daunting. I’m not the prettiest girl out there anymore since working at this fast food joint has def ruined my figure, but when you’re drunk, everyone’s pretty. It also helps that during night shift I actually put on some makeup because that’s the only time I see hot guys come into work. Everyone’s drunk and high and wants to eat. But the guys I like never like me. Because I eat the shit all day that they only wanna eat when they’re fucked up. At least it took 5 years of my life working here, to look like I’m halfway pregnant. And I learned I have a good shape if I did ever wanna stay fat. Which seems like what’s gunna be happening. Anyway here’s the shit I get hurled at me at 4 in the morning.

This guy was being weird from the time he was ordering on the drive thru. When I told to drive around, he said rocket. He said something else really weird but I totally can’t remember. They do drive around and the guy in the driver’s seat is this super cute white dude and I’m trying to take their money but there seems to be a struggle with his friend in the passenger’s side. He’s out the car, doing God knows what. And it seems it’s him with the money. I don’t have time for the struggle, so I go do other stuff because, duh there’s more than one customer. You’re not the only there and I can’t wait hand and foot on you.

Anyway, when I’m ready, they’re finally ready. His friend is some white dude, big guy, bald, covered in tatts. I love a white guy covered in tatts, but def not this one. But he loved me….

Dude- YOU’RE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL YA KNOW THAT?

Me- Uhh… thanks *that giggle that you give old people’s terrible jokes and serial killers so they don’t murder you*

Dude- NO SERIOUSLY! YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT!

Me- Alright thanks so much for telling me *keep on smiling and the don’t kill me giggle*

Dude- CAN I GET YOUR NUMBER?

Me- uhhhhhh…… *tries to look at my co-workers for help, I’m on my own*

Dude- CAN I GIVE YOU MINE?

Me- uhhh, I guess but I won’t remember it

his cute friend the one I actually want- Don’t mind me, I’m not here

Ohhh but yes you are here! You totally are and I really just want you!

Dude- GOT A PEN AND PAPER?

Me- uhhhh *looks around unproductively*

Dude- ALRIGHT, IT’S OK. I’LL BE BACK THO

Me- ok……. niiighhhhtt

WTF????? How close was I to murder/rape? Way too fucking close for my taste. He was just a weirdo and I know it was him saying that weird stuff on the drive thru cuz his hottie friend was so sweet and nice and not screaming at me like I was across the street. Ugh fml I get serial killer rapist convict while hottie biscotti of my dreams just wants to remain unseen. Waaaaahh fml I never get the one I want!!!!

A group a guys came in and they all seem pretty good, drunk and whatever. They all came back from the strip club because they were saying a lotta stuff that left little to no imagination to know that’s where they just came from. One guy was just like being a jokester or something, just fucking around with everyone. Saying like, oh at least I entertained you guys and made your night so much better right? And we’re just like sure. Of course he talked to me cuz I have to take the orders.

Jokester- Yo giiirl, yo glasses prescription? *he slurred the prescription and had a lisp so it sounded more like: perschripion*

Me- uh yeah

Jokester- Ok, girl that’s cool. You look good em. You got your own style, you look good wit em you look good girl. Glasses prescription, girl.

Me- Uh.., thanks dude.

I hate drunken compliments, things just get so awkward. Then my manager came in that time and she’s up there in age, 50+. So this guy starts talking to her. He’s asking her age and all kinds of stuff. He just saying so much stupid stuff to her and he’s you look good tho. You still look good. Like this dude was not for real trying to holla at this lady, like wtf. And all she does is turns to us and smile, and says: You see, it’s not the age, it’s the body. I was laughing so hard and it was just so cute with her heavy spanish accent and her doing a little pose. Smh the shit you do when you’re drunk.

This next guy came in the drive thru and he was slurring and he said something that made me crack up. I don’t remember what but I was just, like this dude totally shouldn’t be driving. And he wasn’t he, was actually in a cab. That was very smart of him. He was like super normal, like drunk normal. Like here’s money whatever. Then he asks me if we have any cookies and he wanted $4 worth. Idk who the fuck wants to eat all them damn cookies at 3:30 in the morning but not me. I’m usually craving sandwiches, pizza, burgers, tacos, things that will make you shit bricks the next day after a night of getting super trashed. But whatever. I hand him his change.

Silly- Thank you so much, man. Omg you’re the beeeest. *the second sentence he said in that drunken high pitch voice*

Me- No problem *smile, as usual*

I close the window and crack up laughing and reenact the whole thing for my co-workers who are just laughing, like drunk people antics. I go back to the window to give him his drink and cookies.

Silly- Omg, thank you so much, you’re the best. Yo, what’s your name?

Me- Andrea.

Silly- Yo what’s your name? I mean what’s your number?

Me- You’re not gunna remember.

Silly- Yeah, I am. I got my phone right here.

Me- You’re just really drunk and you won’t remember this.

Silly- Yes, I will. You’re too beautiful not to remember. Come on just give me your number.

Me- Thanks, but I highly doubt you’ll remember this, and I’m not that pretty that you would remember me.

Silly- Yes, you are girl. Come on I remember everything, I’m like and elephant. I’d never forget sucha beautiful face, girl.

Me- uhhh, just lemme, I’m gunna get your food.

Silly- Wait just put your number in.

Me- I’ll be right back I’m getting your food, ok.

I hurry shut the window. I was laughing the whole time talking to that guy and of course tell my co-workers. What a mess. I don’t know how to really tell him no cuz he seemed so Idk about it. He wasn’t that bad looking. He had money, so that was a plus. But I doubt this white dude would still think I’m attractive once his beer goggles were off and my actual glasses were off as well. I get his food to give to him, he takes it and basically shoves his phone at me. Can you say aggressive? This guy wasn’t taking no for an answer and there was no he remember me anyway. So I start putting my number in his phone.

Me- I have no clue why I’m doing this.

Silly- Cuz I’m a real handsome guy *proceeds to grin*

All I can do is laugh.

Me- Well your not gunna remember this anyway and you’ll never text me, so what does it matter.

Silly- Nah, I won’t forget. Don’t worry I’ll remember.

Me- If you ever text me, I’m gunna laugh.

Silly- I’m gunna be the one laughing when you do.

Me- No, it’s gunna be me cuz you’re the one that has my number, and are gunna be too drunk to remember to text me.

Silly- I’ll text you girl.

And with that, he was gone his cab, to go home and probably pass the fuck out. I haven’t gotten a text from any strange number, so he’s either dead or I was right. Either way, fuckin hilarious. I think I rather this guy than a fat sweaty bald guy yelling at me that I’m really fucking beautiful. It’s apparent to me, the only time I get anyone remotely near my age range or type, they have to be so belligerent drunk and feel the need to yell at me how beautiful I am. Every guy I want needs to be totally drunk, balls to the wall, blacked out, smashed, beyond drunk, so they can yell at me I’m fucking beautiful too because I’ll def give you my number, no questions ask. I mean, if it’s the only time I’m fucking beautiful, everyone better be.

Shit Guys Say to Me

I have sooo much random shit guys have been saying to me from the time I was able to be looked at that way. And not looked at that way. Guys are just major creepers. And that shit comes from guys that are closest to you. But today, at work, it’s what this one customer said to me in the drive thru that made me hafta break my depressive non writing cycle and try to put something out there. Even if it is just something little.

 

Me- Would you like any ketchup or anything?

Guy in the drive thru- Naaaah, but umm… you don’t smoke or anything?

Me- Uhh… no

Guy in the drive thru- Aiiggghhtt

Me, I run away lol. Like wtf kind of pick up line is that? Not that I don’t like to smoke, I never really had the chance or opportunity to yet. And none of my friends are being very helpful about it. They all tell me to smoke but I have yet to with any of them so I can actually do it like wtf guys? Thanks for helping me out. But yeah, that’s how I get asked out. Great. I’ll def find my prince that way. fml

 

 

 

Me and this dude have known each other since high school and we always been on and off. And lately I’ve always been around, with or without him having a gf.

 

Me- Why do you always make me the side chick?

Dude- You’re not the side chick.

Me- Are you serious? You have a gf and you still hit me up every time. That makes me the side chick.

Dude- Well… that’s not the case. but that’s the case.

Me- That doesn’t make any sense.

Dude- Yeah I know.

 

This is what I have to deal with. *Sigh* This always happens to me. I’m always the friend with benefits and then they dump and somehow get a gf outta no where. Then they still hit me up and I’m just like, wtf dude? Am I always just gunna be the side chick for everyone? Just really annoying. Guys are the worst.

 

 

– You need a really nice white guy.

– You need a really nice white guy that likes it rough.

 

This was from two different guys I was dating and they are both spanish. Idk why they both said white guys. They said that seems what my type is like and that’s true but obviously I like spanish guys too. I can like more than one race. I mostly go for spanish guys. Anyway, they both said I really deserved that because I really should be treated really nicely I guess. I think they both wanted me to be with someone that they know I would like but more like someone they know would actually treat me right in the way I truly deserved or something.  Like even though I was with them, they knew they weren’t the best for me and I deserved more. I was never that girl that was in a relationship. My longest ones only last til 3 months. I feel like that’s the cut off because I’m cursed. I’m just cursed in that if I have a bf it only last til 3 months or that if it is just fwb, it’ll last long but they always find gfs and leave me with nothing. Not that a white guy will solve all this but it would be nice to date one. I find so many of them cute but I feel they think I’m weird, and they also don’t know nothing about all this lady lumps I’m carrying. Let’s say I’m fat lol. But yeah, I find a lot of different people attractive but they never like me back, no matter what race they are. I’m just this weirdo person, idk. And when they do, I never understand it. It confuses me and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop and run outta there like hell.

The whole likes it rough thing…. uh well that definitely would be beneficial. I can just be a little aggressive, just a little.

 

 

 

This long haired guy and me, at a bar that’s empty, he’s way ahead of me in drinks. I only just joined in the night out. He’s feeling nice and makes a move and we’re making out. Like a lot. Like whew. Like damn, thank god this bar is empty cuz I’m not drunk enough to not care what people think.

 

Long haired dude- Is this how you get after 2 beers?

Me- No, this is how you get after 2 beers.

Long haired dude- But I was drinking way before you.

Me- Yeah I know.

 

I’m sober as fuck, and this guy is riding the nice waves and I really wish I was on that same level of niceness so that way we can flow better together. But that didn’t really seem to matter.

 

Long haired dude- Can I ask you a question?

Me- Sure.

Long haired dude- You always had sucha nice ass?

Me- Bwhahahahahaha. Wow, you’re funny. Yeah I guess so, even when I was skinny. I always had a nice shape.

Long haired dude- Oh yea, well I really like dat ass.

 

I just kept laughing the whole time. Guys say such funny, stupid things. My response was- So I take it all you want for your birthday is a big booty ho? He was grabbing my ass the whole time. I was like, your white, what do you know about alla this? lol Should be like over load to the system. But nah, he’s a really nice guy that likes my body for what it is, and it’s super refreshing to not have to feel self conscious around someone that you haven’t know for a long period of time.

 

 

 

But yeah, some of the randomness that is my life. What a mess.