June 8, 2010

A NOT so Birthday Story

Posted in Life as I live it at 11:10 pm by A Witty Fool

Picture this. .. trust me, having a visual helps.

Sunday night. It had been hot and humid on Sunday, as only a summer day in Boston can be, until about 4pm when a thunder storm blew by, dumping gallons of water and cooling the air. I love it when it rains, during and after, especially when it storms. I like to dance and jump around, in the rain, soaking up the water, the wind, the sounds and the energy, but now (after a small case of mistaken identity, that resulted in whispers of “ogbanje” ,”abiku”, mami-water, evil spirit, etc, behind my back) I mostly, just stick to talking long walks and soaking up the cool breeze in the aftermath of a storm.

And it came to pass (believe me, this is a tale of biblical proportions… almost) that on this particular night (this past Sunday) I decided to go for a walk after the storm, also after midnight. So I am trolling and listening to music, day dreaming about: a// the return of a brand new Supernatural season (is Sammy or isn’t Sammy, that is the question?!)  b// this totally hot guy at my new job (dude, he IS hot!) c// winning the lottery and other various day dreams that I get occasionally, when I heard a voice speak to me from deep in the dark, dark night.

And it said unto me:

“hey yo, Mami. Pe ra qui” (Spanish. Don’t ask me questions!)

I look around, but see nothing and no one, so I continue my on jaunt, when the voice spoke again:

“hey Mami, wot? You no like Spanish mens?” YES, he said “mens” and NO! English as a second language is NOT an excuse!

So I look around again and on an instinct, (the self same instinct that makes a rabbit disappear into it hole just when hunter-man reaches for his riffle.) I look down. Yep, I literary, had to look down, just to get a glimpse of the ‘top’ of his head, and there he was, Shorty Mac Short Short.

About Shorty: I’ve been seeing him around for some time. He hangs out with friends at a spot near my house and he has been eyeing me for a while. Yes, I am hotter than Halle Berry in a bikini, on a Jamaican summer day, but even I have to concede that the MAIN attraction that Mac Short Short and the other members of what I now fondly refer to as the Leprechaun crew (short men that hit on me) feel, is in the conquering of a tall chick. I do not need my one class in general psychology to understand that for a man who is insecure about his height (or lack thereof) sleeping with a tall girl pretty much amounts to a conquering if you will. Like she may be taller than me, but I fked her, put her in her place…the bedroom… and if they can get you to cook for them afterwards???!!!! Men have fragile egos and the egos attached to a short and insecure man is EVEN MORE so! They consider it a grave insult for a girl to be taller than they are and the “macho” in them will not be appeased until they have put you (said tall girl) in your place by sleeping with you or getting you to cook for them (the sex one is the better option, of course). This is why short men, tend to be more chauvinistic than their taller counterparts. .. it is a height ‘envy’ thing… just ask Bonaparte.

Disclaimer: Note.. this does NOT apply to ALL short men, just 99.9% of them and almost ALL of the ones with whom I have come in contact. Also, have a theory on short girls, but I will not expound on it here because it serves no purpose and also because I have reason to fear for my life if I dare. ..

but I digress……

So anyways, I say Hi to Mac Shorts and keep walking, but he grabs my hand and says:

“hold on chicka, whats your name?”

“Alex” I reply. (Once when a guy was hounding me, I became rude and told him off. As I walked away, he tried to embarrass me by calling out: “bitch! U aint even that cute! You probably a man, with your tall ass!” so I deepened my voice, turned around and replied: “Yeh dawg, I’m Alex. What?! like you ain’t know.” The look on his face, was PRICELESS!!!!! And since then, Alex has been my go to name when a guy is being a pest.)

Anyways, Spanish guy did not blink, merely replies: “Alex, si? That s a pretty name for you mami. My name is Jose.” (insert obvious joke about yet another Spanish guy named Jose here)

 Me: em.. nice to meet you Jose, goodnight.

Jose: Alex, damn, wait one second. Can I get your number?

Me: No

Jose: why not?

Me: cuz, I got a boyfriend (yes, I am still single, so I lied… sue me!)

Jose: he ain’t got to know nothing

Me: I know, but I don’t want to.

Jose: what? You no like Spanish gys?

Me: goodnight

Jose: oh ok. But before you go, can I get a kiss?

Me: ignoring the idiot, I keep on walking.

Jose: come on Alex. I see you around all the time. I been liking you. One kiss? Un beso, por favor, hun?”

I keep on walking……. allow me to make one more detour and point out that ALL this time, I had been walking on the road, while he was walking right along on the pavement, which had been raised about 4 or 5 inches off the road, so he had a 4/5 inch advantage on me, and I STILL had to look down to see the top of his head. Home boy did not even come up to my chest area! Even if I was inclined to kiss him, what was I gonna do? squat?!

 …… anyways, I ignore him and keep on walking.

Jose: men, come on! He actually snapped at me! As I turned to (not so politely) tell him what to do with his kiss, my question (about how eXactly the kiss was even gonna happen) was answered. He jumped, throwing one of his arms around my neck while the other hand grabbed my face, trying to hold it in place for his kiss. SERIOUSLY!

This is where the visual helps. ….. I screamed and started trying to run off, eXcept Jose was hanging on to my neck. Now, I was no long standing next to the pavement, I was running down the road and because Jose no longer had that little boost that the pavement gave him, his legs where dangling in the air, as he hung on (tightly) to my neck! I am paralyzed by fear and shock at first, until I realized that the little bastard was trying to wrap his legs around my waist. I shoved him away from me, he swung up and into the air, out to the left, and then back down and to the right. Swinging like a pendulum, STILL attached to my neck. But then I got an idea, so I shoved him again, just as hard as I could and as he swung hard into the air again, I squatted! and his hand slipped off from around my neck. He must be athletic, because he landed on his feet, but before he could gain his equilibrium and turn around to find me, I kicked him right on the tush. He fell over and I ran off, after getting in another kick.

 I got home, shaking and after a LONG, hot shower, I fell into bed and allowed myself to melt into tears, eXcept I realized, I wasn’t crying, I was laughing. Laughing! Laughing, because this is just the type of bullshit, that only ever, EVER happens to ME!

And I promise y’all, THIS is a true story!

Happy Freaking Birthday to ME!