August 7, 2006

Creepy Old White Guy

Lots to catch up on! Sorry for breaking my "every other day" blog posting promise, but I was on a mini vacation and have just recovered and transitioned back to real life. Incidentally, I wish the beach was real life. I wonder if I could survive there on an artist's income. I would be a very tan, very relaxed, artist.

Anyway, fast forward to yesterday afternoon. (Or rewind, depending on where you started.) In an effort to maintain my newly achieved tan through September, which is the date of a very special wedding, I decided it'd be best to lay out in the local park by my apartment and catch some rays. I do this often, bringing my "park blanket" and a book or my ipod. Sometimes the Post. Sometimes I get a sandwich. Sometimes I get all crazy and get an Italian sub. Those are exciting days.

So yesterday, I get all my supplies (sandwich, book, etc.) and I pick my spot on the grass. I position my flip flops and my bag by my hand so that, if I fall asleep, it's less likely that someone will steal them. I apply some tanning lotion, roll up my tank top, and prepare for the ultimate in local DC relaxation.

Until! All of a sudden I notice a man walking towards me. I immediately stereotype him as a "creepy old white guy." He walks around the tree a few times, and then lays down on the grass not too far from where I am. This would be normally ok... if the park was crowded. But it was NOT crowded. I'm thinking, grrrreeeeat. Pervert.

I ignore him, glancing up every now and then to see him staring at me. His shirt comes off (ew, FYI) and he lounges on one elbow facing me the whole time.

I refuse to move. This is my park too, damnit. And there are people around, so I don't feel like I'm in any immediate danger. So I stay there. I eat my delicious sandwich (props to So's Your Mom deli). I make a few phone calls, try to read my book, etc.

Finally, though, I had to give in... not because his staring got to me, but because he started saying things. Out of nowhere, I hear, "You're so beautiful. I want to take you home with me." It was so faint, I thought for a second that I must have imagined it. But it was real. And it was very VERY creepy.

So I moved to a another spot in the park. And after a few minutes, I peered in his direction to see that he had left. Apparently he felt rejected.

Creepy old white guy, here are some tips. Don't be so creepy! This is not a good way to get girls. Keep your shirt ON. And wait until at least a few conversations have transpired before you start whispering sweet nothings from across the grass. Did you really expect a positive response? Has anyone ever been like, "Sure! I'll come home with you! Better yet, why don't you come over to my place? Creepy old white guy, you're awesome!" Well, maybe it works for you once in a blue moon. But not today.

1 comment:

AJ said...

Good post, AO. Maybe I should write about the creepy old women in Atlanta. They like to grab butts. And I don't even have one.

Now if the creepy white guy was James Blunt and was telling you over and over again "You're beautiful, it's true!" would you change your mind and follow him home! Don't be swayed by his charms like all the women on Oprah!