never underestimate my hotness.

i *think* i was hit on today by a 65-ish-year-old grandfather who was bragging about his mail order bride from cambodia (he didn’t call her a “mail order bride” but that is totally what she was/is).  he showed me her picture and it looked like a fake ID card with a young asian chick on it who was/is somewhere in her late teens/early twenties.  i’ve learned to just smile and nod at crazy people, because they don’t like it when you contradict *their* reality and then they work harder to pull you into their delusions and convince you of anything and everything.   so i said, oh that’s very nice.

BUT HE KEPT GOING.  something about like 100 buddhist monks and many-days-long parade celebrating their engagement and there were just monks everywhere.  so i said, wow that is very festive and that is a lot of monks.

HE DID NOT STOP THERE.  he just continued babbling.  he had kept asking me questions that tried to pinpoint my age and instead of what i always promise i’ll say next time “sorry i don’t give out personal information” i just skillful-ishly evaded them by saying, no i’m no longer in school (high school), haven’t finished college…..and he suddenly became  FRIGGIN’ OBSESSED with how young i look saying, i thought you were 15!  (does my being 15 sweeten my appeal? gross.)  other people have said shit like that to me before and it’s annoying, but that’s fine i guess.  i’m closer to thirty than fifteen, you bitches.  that’s what i’d *like* to say.

honestly, i’m not even sure what order this all occurred in.  it may have all started because i wear a ring on my left ring finger and he said, oh so you are engaged!  i, too, have cambodian slave.   but i said, uh no i am married GET AWAY FROM ME.  and then the many many monks were discussed.

at the conclusion of this madness, i thought he may have heard me mention him to another coworker,  but i think he was just staring at the counter in general, and like, watching us/me.  he remarked to my coworker, AGAIN, how i’m some lolita jailbait cocktease and then told her (she’s 50-ish) that she looked no older than 27 and sort of implied that we were youthful vixens.

the more i’m out in the world, the more i see a burqa as a viable wardrobe option.  you know, like a lightweight sort that was totally worn by choice, and maybe had a removable face part so you could choose whether or not to show these jackasses your face.  a hijab?

anyway, to men over 45 (and men over 25 who are disfigured, disgusting/dirty/smelly, creepy, or intensely ugly) i am like, a goddess:  i am angelina jolie.  i’m not extraordinarily ugly…(idk, think  jeanneane garofalo, ellen page, thora birch, daria morgendorffer, and jeff goldblum all mixed together somehow) but not good enough, i guess, for normal, clean people around my own age.  what i don’t understand is ifg whether i AM hot to this weirdo fringe group, or if i’m just the best they figure they can realistically aim for.  or maybe because there’s something wrong upstairs, these are just  people who think it’s appropriate to be all up in my humps, while a normal person might think to himself, oh she’s nice looking, but i don’t want to be forward, so i’ll not say anything.

anyway, the moral of the story is: DON’T YOU FOOKIN’ LOOK AT ME.

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~ by hollaphonic on 07/14/2010.

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