.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Sketchy Crazy Man of the Week!
This week's sketchball is brought to you by the letter E for Exxon-Mobil.

I was getting gas after work, minding my business. Just after I'd started the pump, I hear SCREEEEEEEECH and see a car fly like a bat out of hell up to the front of my vehicle. I got into "ready mode" because I thought this fool was about to run up on me and do some damage. I kind of wish that had been the case.

Instead he goes "Psst. Babygirl. Psssssssst". I ignored him because I don't respond to PSSST. That's just disrespectful. People should know better than to try and approach a woman like that. He did it again, so I answered with a rude "What? What do you want?". I expected some pseudo-slick pimp type of response, but I got much more than that.

"Girl, you's a healthy muthaf***a. I know how you thick girls do. I wanna get all in that ass and I'll tear it up. I just got out the pen too, so I'm ready to do some xxx-rated shit"

I really thought I'd heard him wrong so I pointedly asked him to repeat himself, and he repeated himself but started licking his lips like a hungry hippopotamus at feeding time. Oh Claude Jeebus, why me!? I really wasn't in the mood to deal with some undersexed ex-convict, but I couldn't go anywhere because the gas pump was still on and if I ran he might try to steal my car. So I started acting like I only spoke French. "Je ne comprends pas. Je parle fran├žais seulement". Normally when I do that, people back up because I'm fluent in the language so they know they can't keep up. But no. Not this time.

He responded in perfect French telling me all the nasty stuff he wanted to do to me. I'm not easily surprised by people's nastiness, but the stuff he was talking--yall, let me just tell you. BARF is what comes to mind. Now I was in a bad place, somewhere between a rock and a concrete wall so to speak. I was thinking of every possible way to get rid of this man. Maybe I could get back in my car and run him over. Nahh, I hear prison's not good...and I don't think an orange jumpsuit would be too flattering on me. Maybe I could spray him with gasoline and light a match. Nahh, I didn't have a match; and that prison thing again. I just can't hang out there for 15 years to life.

So I let him keep talking until the gas pump clicked off. I put the nozzle back, and got in the car. He started walking closer to me and motioned for me to roll down the window. I cracked it, and just as he opened his mouth to start on another Gross McNasty tirade, I said to him, "You said you just got out the pen right?"

"Yeah, why mami? You like a gangsta nigga don't you?"

"No booboo, I don't like I gangsta. I asked because you're walking funny. Did you drop the soap while you were in there? Maybe I'm not the one you want. Bubba misses you, I'm sure he wouldn't approve of his bitch trying to get ass from a woman"

He gave me some crooked look, walked back to his car and drove away. Crisis averted.

I'm soo thankful that I inherited a quick wit from the women in my family. This really had the potential to go very wrong. Men, I beg you to please stop the madness.


2 Comments:

Blogger Gunfighter said...

I'm with you on this, as usual... but, PLEASE be careful how you respond to people... I'm concerned about your safety.

Blogger Tasha said...

Thanks GF, I know sometimes I can be a little too quick to open my mouth! But I'm actually already concerned about safety...people shouldn't be so willing to violate someone's personal space so easily. The way people approach me is sometimes a little frightening.

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

footer