Oh. My. God. This weekend was great, but it had in store some, er, odd commentary from random strangers. Remember J’s encounter with a creepy stranger with very much unsolicited input as to her appearance? Well. Ahem. I too have entered this realm of weird commentary from strangers.
So the recent object of my affection (known henceforth as “G”) and I were walking from the Cinerama up Denny to Capitol Hill, and the intersection of Denny and Stewart, I think, we passed a group of a couple shady-looking characters – no surprise, in that area, and no big deal of course, so we just strolled on by contentedly holding hands and being cute and twitterpated and absorbed in our own conversation and whatnot. And as we were passing Shady McShaderson & Co., the following dialogue transpired, via yelling:
Shady McShaderson: “Sup dawg, I don’t mean to be flirtin’ with yo’ woman, but damn, I’d hold her hand too! Ya know, I don’ mean no disrespect…”
G: “…” [I mean, what do you even say to that? Nothing, that’s what, you just kind of gape dazedly because WTF.]
Me: “… Thanks!” {waving goodbye as we continue to walk AWAY}
Seriously. WTF? I mean, in all honesty, that’s probably the nicest catcall-type-thing I’ve ever received, but still… the killer is that this occured *after* an even weirder unsolicited comment from a woman at Golden Gardens, delivered again to the same Dynamic Duo. I’m a little scared to go out in public with G now, for fear of our amazing powers of Making Strangers Say Weird Shit To Us. I mean, c’mon, I would’ve settled for Spidey Sense as a super power, you know? Or flying, or invisibility, or No Hangovers or something. Or an owl that delivered my mail. I mean, we’re talking setting the bar looooow here. Shit, I’d settle for a power that would let me remain constantly at Level One on Tetris so I didn’t have to die on purpose just to be able to play with shapes on a blank canvas again. But nope, I get People Say Weird Shit To Me And My Date. Soooooo intimidating and useful.
I’m still trying to come up with a way to make this work to my advantage, but it would really only be helpful as far as I can tell if I were some sort of celebrity whose career was in a slump and I needed some tabloid-worthy drama to stir things up for me. Other than that, I’m shit outta luck, pretty much. Maybe I’ll at least start tape recording these exchanges for my own amusement. Anyone have a portable tape recorder I can borrow?
I walked down to the spot where this happened tonight, but strangely, there were no catcallers. Hooligans. Wolf-whistlers.
I tried holding hands with the air to see if I could hear their voices on the wind, but it didn’t work. Because you can’t hold hands with the air. The air doesn’t have hands. IT’S AIR.
Superpowers I would want:
o The ability to force whoever is making my coffee always get the right mixture of espresso and sugar-free vanilla syrup
o The ability to travel back in time to stop people from typing “lol”, “:P”, “OMG”, and “blog”
o The ability to fly. Because that would just be neat. I’ve done it in my dreams… it involved tightening my chest just… like… this… nope, didn’t work. Because IT’S AIR.