who do you think you are?
Aug. 11th, 2006 05:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helikedmyshoesFun things that happened tonight...
A creepy guy asked for my number. A lot. Seriously, take a hint.
Another creepy guy asked if I remembered the band from last week, said they were his friends and that I should hang out with them. Dude. Using your friends' band to get chicks? LAME.
The third creepy dude not only hit on me, but also implied I was a slut based on what I was wearing. His comment was something along the lines of, "do they make you wear that? When did this start?" and then went on to imply that I looked really slutty. No, asshole, I'm hot and I worked damn hard to get the body I have now, of course I'm going to show it off so drunk morons like you give me your money. My boss tells me to wear black. I take that and make an outfit out of a long low cut black tank top and booty shorts. Don't call me a whore because you're jealous.
Ugh. I am so sick of men.
ETA (cuz I forgot...) So the guy who asked for my number ALSO asked if it had been me in the parking lot late last Friday night. He said he waved to me as he was leaving and thought that I'd seen him and smiled back. I had to polietly explain that yes, that was me, drunk and angry in the parking lot at 2 in the morning, and no I did not see him because I was, as I said, drunk and angry and in the middle of a huge fight in said parking lot.
Note to self: the best place for a talk like that is NOT the Santa Monica Beach/Pier Parking Lot on a Friday night. Especially when the talk involves loud voices, cursing, and ballroom dancing.
My life is weird sometimes.
A creepy guy asked for my number. A lot. Seriously, take a hint.
Another creepy guy asked if I remembered the band from last week, said they were his friends and that I should hang out with them. Dude. Using your friends' band to get chicks? LAME.
The third creepy dude not only hit on me, but also implied I was a slut based on what I was wearing. His comment was something along the lines of, "do they make you wear that? When did this start?" and then went on to imply that I looked really slutty. No, asshole, I'm hot and I worked damn hard to get the body I have now, of course I'm going to show it off so drunk morons like you give me your money. My boss tells me to wear black. I take that and make an outfit out of a long low cut black tank top and booty shorts. Don't call me a whore because you're jealous.
Ugh. I am so sick of men.
ETA (cuz I forgot...) So the guy who asked for my number ALSO asked if it had been me in the parking lot late last Friday night. He said he waved to me as he was leaving and thought that I'd seen him and smiled back. I had to polietly explain that yes, that was me, drunk and angry in the parking lot at 2 in the morning, and no I did not see him because I was, as I said, drunk and angry and in the middle of a huge fight in said parking lot.
Note to self: the best place for a talk like that is NOT the Santa Monica Beach/Pier Parking Lot on a Friday night. Especially when the talk involves loud voices, cursing, and ballroom dancing.
My life is weird sometimes.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-11 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-11 10:57 pm (UTC)