Is your daddy a dentist?

Only this would happen to me.

Walking down Atlantic Ave. on Friday (with some friends), I noticed an older man walking in our direction.  I wasn't really paying any attention to him, because it was obvious he wasn't a sugar daddy.  As I continued walking down the street in a fog of sleeplessness, I didn't notice this upstanding citizen walking towards my face.  He stopped right in front of me and made a face like  this:

He then proceeded to raise his arms and growl at me.  It took me a second to process what was going on, but I'm glad I hadn't had anything to drink, because old man dentures are scary!  Realizing I wasn't going to get chomped, we went along our merry way, as the old man stood on the corner scaring more people.

If he had any game, he would have said, "Is your daddy a dentist?  Then open wide!"

Decisions, decisions.....

I love Oakland not only because I get to see family and relax, but I can walk down the street and make eye contact with someone without fearing they will chase me down the street.  I get to leave the rabid Chupacabra mean mug at home.

Although Oakland is infected with hipsters, they're harmless, and if they do happen to bother you, all you is put some PBRs next to them and run as fast as you can.  Since I had my hipster vaccination already, I was enjoying a crazy-person-free trip-until the last night.

My brother and I went to a local spot to enjoy some adult beverages on my last night on the West Coast.  We'd been there many, many times.  But this night was special.  Maybe the most special of my life.

Out of the corner of my eye, like a diamond in the sky, I saw a man advancing towards us.  He was selling something.  DVDs?  Weed?  Uggs? (yes I did buy a pair of bootleg Uggs when I was getting my hair did)  None of the above.  He was selling tamales-out of his pocket.

I went to the bar to get another seltzer water, and Tamale man was waiting for me, ready to swoop down like a predator.  I amused myself a little by "conversatin" with him, and in his broken English, he told me "I go to Brooklyn with you".  Hmmm, then I wouldn't need to go to the taco truck.  His attention was quickly taken away by an inebriated man looking to purchase a pocket tamale.  So sad.

Feeling dejected, I sat back down.  With another swoop, a man appeared next to me and immediately put his fingers in my hair.  "I had to check to see if it was a weave," he informed me.  I don't know what was worse, the fact that he thought it was ok to touch a black woman's hair, or the fact that he thought the 1.5 inches of hair I have might possibly be a weave.

We "conversated" for a few minutes--the Weave checker was actually a 40 year old male nurse.  Wait, I am mistaken.  He was a 40 year old male nursing student.

My heart was torn in two.  Tamale Pocket vs. Weave Inspector.  Who would you choose?

I'm back!

I know it's been a long time friends.  I haven't had any new posts for a while because for the most part, I was pretending I was invisible when I walked down the street, and if someone tried to talk to me, I'd either say "no hablo ingles" or I'd just start signing at them (no, not the middle finger).

Now, many of my friends have had success on dating websites.  I can't say the same for myself, but I do find it a form of entertainment.  Entertainment you say?  Take a look at the type of emails I get...

I got a "wink" from this 48 year old gentleman today (sugar daddy).

Now seeing as how he looks like a mix of Carrot Top, Weird Al Yankovic, and the guy from Color Me Badd, I think I will choose to ignore his attempts to steal my heart.  But maybe he can give me some hair tips.

Back to being invisible....

Line of the Day: Sunday, September 26, 2010

Sorry to keep everyone waiting.  I was on a brief hiatus due to a run in with the C. Mafia.  Other than that, I've had a few one-liners here and there, but none as noteworthy as today.  Here goes....

Guy:  Hey sexy!  Excuse me, what kind of dog is that?

Me:  A maltipoo.

Guy:  Oh yeah, I got one of those.  (Really, then why are you asking fool?)  Is it a girl?

Me:  No.

Guy:  Is it a boy?  (Hmmmm, it's a little iffy.  The "hermaphrodite" box was checked off when I got him.)

Me:  Yes.  (Take note, I haven't stopped walking yet).

Guy:  Yo I got a girl.  We should mate them.

Maybe that guy's parents shouldn't have mated.  Goodnight folks.

Lame ass line of the day

"If you were my teacher, I doubt I'd learn anything but your measurements."

Really?

How to ruin an already bad day

Today was the official first day of school.  I wasn't able to find a sugar daddy, so I was forced to go in.  It was very difficult to fall asleep, but when I finally did, in those few hours, I had a dream that I was on a date with Sam Merlotte from True Blood.  Could he be the one to fulfill my saccharin dreams?

No.  It was a mirage.  How did I know?  Because I awoke to a dog making Tourette's like twitches at 5:30 am.  Damn.

So I got to work, saw the old students, met the new students, and was overwhelmed by various things.  When I finally got a break--well not really, because I was in my office looking for something that I needed to work on, a uniformed officer walked in.  At first, he looked around like he was looking for something in the ceiling, but then he introduced himself to me.  He told me that he was the new head of security at the school.  After I introduced myself, he said to me, "You look good.  Can I take you out to dinner sometime?"

Being the bitch that I am (it must be the haircut) I simply told him no.  He happily retorted "Ok, maybe next time!" and walked out.

Watching him leave, I wondered if he really was the head of security, or if he had bought the shirt and badge at Party City.

Fifteen minutes later, he came back to my doorway and said "I'm still going to get you a 12 pack from White Castle."  Now, I don't ever eat at that hell hole, but I used to live near one and I distinctly remember that it reeked of onions and skunk.  I had no idea what a White Castle 12 pack was, so I was confused as to why a security officer in an elementary school was offering me beer.  I asked him what it was, and he explained it to me.  I told him I would never eat that, so he said he'd buy me a lobster instead, then walked away.

If I could only be a shape shifter....

Mas locura de Cozumel

Looking seyksee at la boda

So much excitement before I even stepped foot on the airplane--who could imagine the fiesta that was about to happen in Mexico?  Viva tequila gratis!  We stayed at an all-inclusive resort (pimpin' ain't easy), but to my surprise, there seemed to be more families and couples.  I guess the younger crowd used the hard earned cash they made donating plasma and returning stolen textbooks to stay at the lavish resorts in nearby Cancun.

But who needs youngsters when you're at a resort full of hotel workers who act like the only woman they have seen in years is Consuela with the faint mustache and the hairy mole on her chin?

Enter Juan.  Or Julio.  Damnit, I can't remember.  Let's call him Javier.  We all know what happens to chocolate in the sun, but I decided to take a risk and join my girlfriend and her fiancee (who happens to be Mexican) at the pool.  They were chatting with a few of the workers when I got down there--one had lovely blonde highlights in his hair and shorts so tight I wondered if he'd be able to conceive children, and the other was Javier, in all of his glory.  When he saw me his jaw dropped like it was hot.  I wasn't impressed, but I was still muy simpatica.

I made some lame jokes in Spanish to him, because I can do that.  Then I chatted with my girlfriend as he chatted with her fiancee.  She later told me that he was saying that I was the woman of his dreams and was hoping they'd set me up with him.  Initially she thought I should give him a chance, but I wasn't feeling the chipotle/beef patty action.

Fast forward, the three of us were at la piscina again, and within a few minutes Javier comes strolling along.  First, he started talking about me in Spanish to the blanquita like I couldn't understand him.  He then said to me, "You go to Senor Frog's tonight?"  "I don't know,"  I told him.  "We go to Senor Frog's and dance seyksee," he said.  I think he thought we were having a seyksee double date.  In spanish, I told him I couldn't go, because I had a fake leg and I got really embarrassed when it slipped off when I was dancing.  He chuckled at first, but then stopped, because he couldn't tell if I was joking or not.  Ay dios mio!

He figured it out soon enough.  Like a caveman, he grunted and pointed to my bellybutton ring.  "Ju got dat?  Dat is seyksee."  He continued to my toe ring.  "Dat too is seyksee."  Good thing I covered up the ash.  The next comment came as very unexpected though.  Javier moved his gaze ever so slightly to my mammary glands.  He points at them and says, "Ju those real?  Ahhhh, mucho grande!"

Now there's a myriad of reactions I could have had, such as kick him in the huevos, or to teach him that saying "mucho grande" isn't grammatically correct (you would think the native Mexican would know Spanish than the gringa Jamaican).  But I was speechless.  We all were.  Javier then went along his merry way, and I prayed I didn't see him for the rest of my trip.

But in the end, I was able to see a good friend get married, and I picked up my new bundle of joy during      my layover in Houston.  I wonder if Javier ended up going to Senor Frogs.  So seyksee!

Baby Ruffstable