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14 May 2010 @ 05:37 pm
beware electric blue docs  
I wore my electric blue Doc Martens today (and matching sunglasses).

On my walk to the Crumpet Shop for breakfast this morning (they will indeed make me groats with steamed soy milk and honey while I'm on this crazy diet. sweet.), a guy complimented my elephant <3 <3 bag on Pine, and when I turned to say thanks, he was a vaguely familiar rasta/hippy face from Capitol Hill. He lit up and asked me my name, and introduced himself as Forest. He asked me if I liked rock shows and invited me to a metal show at a friend's house near Neumo's tonight. I haven't been able to find anyone to go with me yet though, so I probably won't. I didn't get an even faint creepy vibe off of this guy, but there are some calculated risks I won't take in spite of very decent odds.

At breakfast, I bantered with the staff, and the white guy who isn't one of the owners who I am inexplicably and ridiculously attracted to, was there, and I said Hi to him awkwardly. Stephanie, a super cute petite white brunette, who generally plays the role of Cashier, had a great t-shirt on today: "don't trust me, i'm an actress". I wonder if she does comedy sports. I'll ask her next time when there's less of a line.

From there, I started my ritual post-Crumpet Shop pre-work stroll down 1st Ave corridor, stopping to admire all of the dress shops I like on the way. Synapse is going out of business, and everything is on sale. I might stop by tomorrow and see what's left.

As I passed the Library Bistro, a mixed-race guy in what I think of as hip-hop clothing, all black and white print down to the matching shoes, staggered back first over my boots, then my body. He was moving stuff into the hotel with his coworker, but stopped everything to follow me all the way to work and spent the whole time rapping to me, telling me how sexy I was and evaluating women who were passing in the other direction. It was unbelievably surreal, like I was watching a movie of myself rather than participating. Very creative / ADD vibe. His name is Optical, he moved here from L.A. last night (according to him) and is recording a rap album (also according to him) and spent the whole time trying and failing to get my number. We finally settled on him giving me his name so I could look up on Facebook if I wanted to. He was entertaining, but omfg way too aggressive. He kept asking me to tell him about my underwear, and then at one point told me all about an all orange outfit he wears in Vegas and people just give him coins and he wins the slots. As I reread what I've written here, I'm pretty sure I was in a weird movie this morning, except that nobody told me.

Got to work. Worked.

Around 3pm, I started getting ambiguous text messages from bartender Jake, which escalated into some relatively dirty text messages (while I was at work :| ), which gave me the opportunity to address whether or not I'm even interested in pursuing anything with him. I'm not. I got about an hours worth of texting, to which I replied to very little of it, mostly involving volunteering to do lots of sexual things to and for me. It was aggressive and incredibly overwhelming, but hopefully that's the end of that, I was as clear as humanly possible without actually castrating him, and he seemed to talk himself into a place where he saved face.

Tomorrow is going to the park with V and his joint-custody dog for a bit. Whether or not I develop an interest there, it's much more my speed.

Electric blue shoes and an overwhelming state of indifference ... I wish it was easier to feel flattered with stuff like this, but honestly I just feel stressed out and like I have to defend and protect myself.

Calm, quiet curiousity about me is about a million times more appealing than frantic, loud sexual appreciation. I just don't know what to do with it.

At the end of this completely surreal oddity of a day, I wish there was someone I felt safe with to wrap their body around me and tell me they like my brain.
Kburgunder on May 16th, 2010 04:20 am (UTC)
Report back findings with the acquisition of exiting shoes ;>