Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Where the hell are MY body guards?

Uh-oh..."Too Late" made it on the shuffle... you know what that means! Repeat X's 5!

Anyway, let's forget about my ADD and continue.

I now know how Paris and Lindsay feel.
No, I was not caught flashing my moneymaker while getting out of a car (although... I did get out of my sister's car quite ungracefully today. I suck at getting out of cars... I need SUV's or trucks in order to make a semi-decent exit where I don't trip over my legs), I did, however, get my picture taken by some weirdo while driving back home today. Paparazzi, I tell you, what a damn hassle.

It's not like I don't get attention while driving... and it's not like I get a lot, either. But I'm not usually a willing participant in "car-flirting," (or any type of flirting for that matter. I really suck at it).

I enjoy the occasional wave from a beautiful stranger (but of course, not the one finger salute), I don't even mind if the person is ugly if they give me the "spirit finger" wave. That's the wave where they make their fingers move in a... wave like fashion. Those spirit finger waves sure make me happy even coming from construction workers.
Waves= cool.
USOEO= not so cool.
I've also gotten the universal sign of "eating out" (USOEO) from a paisano once. You know... pointer and middle fingers making a V, tongue in the middle moving side to side.

WTF? Is that your way of signaling I have a flat or something? Wait... is he... ahh! My virgin eyes!

Instead of getting angry, though, I just kind of... laughed it off. Does that trick usually work on chicks? I don't even think porn stars dig that sign. Why don't you just flash me "The Shocker"
next time?

Then today just set a new bar for "weirdo-ness" in the flirting realm.

My friend Lucky Soprano had told me a story where some stranger took a picture of her from the opposite side of the bar. However, Lucky Soprano caught the dude and gave him the finger just as he took the picture. I just remember thinking: "Now why the fuck would any idiot do that shit? Are they that desperate to make people believe they know hot girls?"

Apparently, there are idiots like that.

I was at a stop light, where traffic usually backs up because it has one lane for turning left, one for the right, and one to go straight just as you get off a tiny birdge. I was in the middle lane, and this dude was in the left. He had been tailgating me since I had entered the 215.
Whoa, Smooth Operator, what the hell do you think you're doing?
I thought he was just being your typical jackass... since I refuse to believe anyone's trying to hit on me.
He moved his car so that our bodies could be parallel, and when I looked over, I got hardcore eye-contact.
Eww... pinche naco hasta la madre. No manches, güey!
Whenever I'm under theses circumstances, rather than giving them an "Ew, leave me the fuck alone, you fucking creep" look, I tend to look away (sure, my shy nature has a lot to do with it. But I'm also kind of polite to the poor dudes that only want to look at a girl. I think of my brother, so I'm never as rude as I wish I could be). I decided to do just that with this guy.
I was looking down writing a text message (something I typically do with a smile on my face) as I waited for the light to turn green, when a flash scared the hell out of me.
I looked over to the dude, and bam... there he was, holding a digital camera... and smiling at me.
Oh helllllllll nahhhhhhh! WTF was that?!

See, Lucky Soprano knows how to handle that kind of attention... she's a clubber... a hot-tempered Irish-Italian hottie. She can handle that shit.
I'm a foulmouthed-good-girl nerd... I just kind of sit there and take it with my mouth open (no... I didn't mean it like that).

I scowled at the guy... and yes... my mouth was open from my surprise at the new level of creepiness I had just experienced.
I mouthed off "What the hell was that?" and he smiled as he drove away.

That shit better not make it on Myspace... he didn't give me enough time to get in my Emo Pose... or the one Chase names after me where I'm looking up at invisble planes. I was looking down, smiling, behind the wheel of a large vehicle, and writing a text message.
Shit... I hope he sent it to like... the DMV or something.

"This bitch drives while texting!"
Instead of
"Check out the chick I beat off to before going to bed each night because I'm a desperate Naco de la pinche selva Chiapaneca que no puede ni con vacas!"

Eww, eww, eww.
That's it... from now on I'm driving with a bag over my head... of course, with cut out eye-holes.

No comments: