It's 8:25 in the morning. I'm crossing Farragut Square, heels clacking, hair flying, and on time for work (which, to me, means late). A gentleman with no hair, craggy face, gray overcoat, and a ladies' sparkly totebag falls into step with me. He mutters:
"You walk like a pigeon."
"...Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You walk like a pigeon."
"Yes, sir, and you dress like a child molester."
He's taken aback, blinks twice, and I take the opportunity to slip in among the other commuters and dart across Connecticut Avenue.
Someday, I'll stop having battles of wits with unarmed men. Also, I wish I'd come up with something better. Anybody else want to give it a whirl?
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30 comments:
You should've gone with the classic: "I AM THE QUEEN OF PIGEONS!" That would've shut him the fuck up.
Also, I think that guy shops at the Bookstore.
I say "shops", I should mean "sleeps."
OTOH, maybe he's a communist spy and that was the code word? and you were supposed to respond, "And you qwak like a rooster." And then he would've given you the secret plans to the Death Star.
I think your answer was sufficiently awesome.
Snay - I dig Door #3. Just because I've always wanted my own Death Star.
Ibid - But, I do not wish to rest on laurels of awesome. Though I imagine awesome laurels would be very comfortable.
So funny i posted the link on twitter...of course that was after i wiped spat tea off my keyboard ;)
I'm with LizSara (arrived via twitter). But I'm also with Snay in that I think you won't now get the plans to the Top Secret Underwater Aircraft Carrier, darn it.
LizSara - Thank you, and welcome!
Brennig - Actually, I was looking to hijack the Heart of Gold.
You don't want an *underwater* aircraft carrier? Are you strange? :)
Brennig - Clearly, you are new here. Strange was a few years back, today, bizarre is a little more like it.
Dammit, Shannon stole my comment.
I've always wanted a spaceship shaped like a shoe.
Ballsy...I like. My strategy (if you can call it that) is always to outrun, rather than outwit.
Snay - I also stole your French fries. They were tasty.
Fearless - Welcome! I'm a slow runner, so I usually choose to stay and fight. Much to my detriment, actually.
Those weren't french fries those were ... nevermind.
I was outside 7-11 in Silver Spring not so long ago when the resident homeless lunatic asked me for a cigarette. I told him I didn't smoke. He immediately started verbally assaulting me, up to and including calling me "four eyes."
I actually started laughing at that one. But I have to admit I lost it a little bit before that and got involved in the argument. There is absolutely nothing to be gained by arguing with insane people. It just made me feel bad later.
Jamie - As you know, I love arguing with crazy people. I call that, "Christmas."
And, were you wearing glasses, or had you finally got that extra set of eyes installed in the back of your head?
"What else do you got, I want to blog about this."
Foxy - I did run into my office and exclaim, "Oh my God! Something totally awesome happened that I can put on my blog!"
I second Ibid. More than sufficient on the awesomeness. Especially since, for all you know, he might be a child molester!
Which is not awesome.
How come homeless people never come on to me with comments like this? I feel so left out.
Strong work.
Brett - If it wasn't for the totebag with little sparkly bits, I would have thought he was completely normal. Let that be a lesson to you all: accessorize well!
Foggy - You're too big and scary. Shrink about a foot, and you'll have more crazies than you know what to do with.
I've never been yelled at by a homeless person. I did get hit on by one, and it was spectacular. He yelled at my male friend as we walked by: "Hey don't get blown up!" Al, confused, said "I don't know what you're talking about" and the homeless man said "Because I think she's DA BOMB!"
I almost went and hung out with him.
If I were getting yelled at, I would probably spend so much time processing the whole thing that he would have found another victim by then. Or stolen my purse.
JAG - There was this group of homeless dudes who would hang out at the church near my old office. They ALWAYS had something nice to say to me...and I freely admit that it was a highlight of my day.
Who does your hair? You should sue them.
Your purse doesn't match your shoes. It matches mine better. Give it to me.
Patty - I like the second one. Though it was kind of a camoflauge beige with sparkles, and I was wearing black patent leather t-strap pumps. I just don't see how that would work.
In crazyland it would.
You could have told him that you were about to offer him free hair plugs. BUT NOW YOU'RE NOT!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!
Methinks I had one too many at HH last night...
See you tonight, love!
Patty - Well, I bet he's the most stylish man in Crazyland.
LiLu - I had one or two too many. As in, I spent the ride home asking my poor cabbie about London geography.
That is Awesome!!! Strong work girl, strong work.
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