Can I Suck On That 'K' ?
Last night I went solo to a PAPER magazine party.
My friend Anna was a no show. I used to intern there
so I knew some people. My plans were to go, have a
drink, see some people I used to know, maybe meet
people I didn't know and chill. But then I remembered
I'm not a guy and therefore this plan could never
happen.
Guys don't truly grasp this concept but a chick…can not…
go to a party solo without being HARASSED. The men
that harass me are always in the form of 'Mr. Joe Khaki
pants.' I could have a bone through my nose and orange
hair and they'd still be zooming over to strike up
conversation. I know I sound like a crabby bitch but
too bad.
The party was full of models wearing the latest trends
which appear to be leather hats, belts made out of shells
and fringe boots. The guys got away with wearing wrinkled
white T-shirts and being unshaven. I wore black pants,
boots and a black tank top with a white 'K' I ironed on right
before the party. This prompted one fuck wad to feel the
liberty to say in passing, 'Can I suck on that 'K' ?
On my way home I waited at a crosswalk for the light to
change. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a car pulling
over to the side of the road near me and rolling down the
window. I knew I shouldn't look but I did. What else but
a large man jerking off inside. When the light went green
he apparently climaxed and spun off.
Two blocks from my apartment I walk by two guys sitting
In white plastic chairs outside a 24 hours laundry mat.
'Excuse me!' one guy yells out in a thick Yugoslavian
accent, 'I bet my life wages that you from Albania!' I
watched as he nudged his friend with confidence. This
has happened before. Being mistaken for someone I
am not. And it's always Albania they say.
