Monday, March 29, 2010

Dedicated to the creeper in the small red car.





The first time I heard Lily Allen was towards the end of my senior year of high school, at drama state competition. I was in a friend's hotel room, and she said, "you guys are going to LOVE this song!" And I did. Lilly Allen managed to succinctly wrap up everything I had ever wanted to say to the majority of the male population in a fun, poppy, witty, complete-with-British-accent package.

When I was single, I used to wonder if I wore a big sign on my head that read, "Weirdos, please come; will date." Or maybe I was emitting geeky radio signals. Or some sort of creeper magnet. Regardless, they always found me. And they never understood the word, "no." It happened way too often to be funny.

Fortunately, being married NORMALLY prevents these socially awkward moments from happening. Until today.

So there I was, walking home, minding my own business. Thinking that today had actually gone pretty well. My presentation went flawlessly, I ate cheesecake for breakfast, and I'd been complemented on my outfit multiple times (I'm vain, sorry). Anyways, when I was getting ready to cross 9th East, a car started honking, so I looked up to see what all the commotion was. I saw a shaved head leaning out his car window, from a small, red car on the other side of the street, grinning straight at me. Now, my first mistake here was probably that I broke rule #1: provide no encouragement. I waved. Now, in my defense, I was laboring under the delusion that this bald-headed man might be my friend Dmitri, who has been known to shave his head from time to time. That fantasy was broken as soon as the man gave me a thumbs up and sped off. Really? "Great legs girl, I give 'em a nine out of ten." I don't know why it makes me made when guys judge my body, even when the judgment is in my favor. Probably because I can't think of a more shallow way to pursue someone. Anyways, awkward moment sped off with bald man and his thumbs up in the red car, never to be seen again.

Or not. What real winners do is turn around and pull into the CHURCH parking lot, slow down in a very creepy manner, as if they'd been waiting for you, and lean out the window and say, "Hey, you want a ride?" Ok, slimeball. Sure, I'll just jump into a stranger's car and go for a spin. Do you have any candy?? Cuz that'll really seal the deal.

Point being, now this song is stuck in my head, and I love my husband ten billion times more.

2 comments:

Lisa said...

Bahahaha oh Babooshka I'm glad you were not molested. What a creeper deeper. I guess that's what you get for being too hot for your own good.

7carrs said...

scary- failed to mention that one to your mom. Warning- do NOT smile and wave at the creepers in LA!