So, I can safely say that I went through my own little Watergate last week. Though Republicans often cause the downfall of the American government by causing constitutional crises at every turn, my very own crisis was caused by an overly observant rando at the lake.
Usually when someone attempts to stop me, I pretend I have invisible headphones in. They can see I'm not wearing any, but then all seem super confused when I don't respond, as if they DESERVE a response. If I occasionally slip up and acknowledge them, I then pretend I don't speak English (I did that last week to a lady canvassing about animal rights. She asked me if I had time to take some survey and I shrugged and said, "I don't speak..." then gesticulated at nothing in particular. She didn't understand, and neither did foreign Emily. Look, I'm a vegetarian. How much more can I do? And don't you dare say go vegan because I'll kill you and eat you if you do). Point to note: I usually don't stop. But this time, an enthusiastic AA man in his late 20's got me. Hard. I'm not sure what he said to initially start us down the road to fuckery, but it was something along these lines:
"Hi, I know this may sound weird and all since you're just minding your own business, but I saw you from across the lake [alarms going off] and just wondered - have you ever noticed how you walk? Are you doing that on purpose, or?"
I kind of just stood there, not knowing what the actual fuck he was saying since I was trying to figure out why there were so many fucking sentret at a Gods damn lake. Aren't there supposed to be water types here? Oh wait, some stupid fucker is trying to talk to me. Or hit on me. Probably hit on me. WHAT YEAR IS IT.
"Yeah, the way you're walking. You have a graceful gait. A sort of different way of walking. I just figured I'd tell you."
A lot of the times, someone will say something to which I don't know how to respond. It's not that I'm miserable at picking up on social subtleties or cues; sometimes, I literally don't know what anyone is supposed to respond given the context in which something is said.
Like, first of all:
1. you were watching me? Like, in a creepy stalker way, since you made it a point to say that you saw me from across the lake. What are you, a God damn lion hunting prey?
2. you were actually thinking about how I walk so that you could then try to use some half-baked, bizarre compliment to get me to stop and talk to you?
3. did you really think that was a normal thing to say, or am I just a bitch? Because that seems like a weird thing to comment on.
So I adeptly responded, "Yeah, I've been told I have a certain way of walking. It was when I was in movement ie dance class in college. I attribute it to my scoliosis, honestly. But liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike, thanks I guess? Not really sure what to say to that." He took this as an invitation to keep going: "Are you a musician? I feel like you have that vibe about you." I said that yes, I was a musician. "So what are you doing walking around the lake?" I said that I was catching pokemon on my lunch break. This apparently completely wrecked him. He acted taken aback and exclaimed, "I WOULDN'T HAVE PEGGED YOU AS THE POKEMON TYPE. THAT'S DISAPPOINTING."
Well, I guess it's disappointing that you're a huge faggot?
At this point, I was getting super agitated. I had tried to be polite despite the fact that he was both creeping and using up my lunch time, which was already very limited. I sort of shrugged and replied, "Yeah, like, how would you peg me as anything if you don't know me? What, because of how I walk you assumed I don't play pokemon? Cool story bro." Realizing he was about to become a Satanic sacrifice, he suggested we go for coffee. I curtly replied, "Yeah, sure. AS FRIENDS THOUGH. Because I'm not sure why else you would have stopped me unless you wanted to make friends." He agreed that it would be as friends, as his penis broke off and flew away from his utter failure.
Don't dis pokemon. Or comment on how I walk. Or be a fucking stalker.
Pretty simple rules, IMHO.
Cat Called: The Inappropriate, The Comical & The Depressing
This is a blog about my daily trials and tribulations while working in downtown Orlando.