***Btw, don’t forget tomorrow is TMI Thursday!***
Honestly, you guys were too freaking sweet yesterday. I definitely made the right choice interwebingly de-robing (that’s what she said), and thank you so much for all the incredibly gentle, gracious and thoughtful comments.
As nice as they were though, I gotta be completely honest with y’all… your words of kindness? Well, in truth… they PALE to the ones I get from bums.
Let me ‘splain.
My whole life, I have suffered from a horrible affliction. It’s a terrible burden, truly.
Bums. Freakin. LOVE me.
I don’t know what it is. Honestly, I can testify that there truly is something to the whole pheromone thing, because I am downright RUDE to anyone trying get a piece of my hard-earned cash in return for hassling me on a corner, and yet they WANTAPIECE like I was a bottle of whiskey with a crack rock at the bottom. It seems, my friends, that my pores give off “eau de loves-alcheys-with-shopping-carts”. Double points for Whole Foods bags.
Apparently I am this guy’s wet dream:
(Wouldn't you think that bottle of whiskey would be his wet dream?)
Lovely reader, do you know me? Have we met? If so, you can confirm that I do NOT appreciate being interrupted. On the streets, I talk like an asshole, walk like a Masshole, and I expect to be treated as such. I am purposeful, I am busy and important, I am GOING somewhere, hence the rapid movement of my legs (left foot, right foot…) And lately? I am also effing freezing, a la my 2 miles walk to work. Leave me the eff ALONE, beetches. Kthxbai.
But something seems to DRAW them to me. Trust, it is more than the average attention a person, or even a female passerby, generally receives. I am not just asked for “alms”, I am not simply pestered for a donation to Street Sense.
You want some candy, little lady? (Shudder.)
I am harassed. I am danced for. I am imrovisationally-SERENADED (in San Francisco, Boston, New York, and quite frequently, Washington D.C.- Georgetown just last weekend. Beware the corner of M and Wisconsin…) My ass has honestly started to just ignore the compliments. A few Sundays ago, B and I were out for a weekend stroll to the porn store BlockBuster. We walked by a domicile-challenged man, and he apparently said something along the lines of, “Girl, you are workin them jeans. I’d take a bite outta that ass.”
B sort of snorted, and about half a block later he said, “Honestly, I’ve never been with a girl who gets hit on by bums so much. We can’t walk anywhere without you getting macked on by the homeless.” (Ed. note: B would never actually say “macked on”. I just couldn’t think of a good synonym for “hit on”, and repetition bothers me. It’s an OCD thing.)
LiLu: “What? Did someone just say something?”
B: “……………….”
Look, I expect this with construction sites, when I’m dressed to the nines (it is a city after all), or if I walk by a Latino man shorter than 4 1/2 feet. Those are givens.
But the homeless? Seriously? Maybe it’s that I AM such a bitch. Maybe I’m playing hard to get, and they just can’t resist?
Oh well. Maybe I should spring for some Chanel to cover up my natural musk of “eau de will-pet-degenerate-bums”…
and then this guy will finally stop hitting on me on my way to work.
{ 32 comments }
You know what I would never do? Allow a bum to brighten my with his harassment. No. That would never happen.
I think they prefer the term “hobos” ya know.
Hmmm, I seem to remember a recent post of yours where you rewarded a bum with money after he told you were a sexy little thang
LiLu, you gotta stop the positve reinforcement of such behavior if you want Nick Nolte to leave you the eff alone! If you don't, then I'm fearful this guy will be on your tail (quite literally) -> http://www.customizedgirl.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/gary_busey2.jpg
Well, are they just hitting on you? Or have you gotten the marriage proposal yet? Not to brag or anything…but I’ve received three proposals over the course of 2008.
Lemm: There are times, of course, when it is flattering. Even necessary. I said it.
CharlotteHarris: Now why didn’t my thesaurus think of that??
PLT: True, true, I am a hypocrite. But I was feeling exceptionally uggo that day!
Miss Scorpio: Oh, you win, hands down. I think if that happened, I might run.
im also a magnet for the latino, short man.
(don’t want no short, short man.)
busey!
Dances, serenades, and, Miss Scorpio, marriage proposals? All of a sudden I’m significantly less bothered by the comments I get about my ass.
Hi-Five and Nick Nolte? Winner!
Brookem: He’s always a winner.
Liebchen: Wear it proudly, lady.
Marissa: I wish the Hi-Five quality was better, but I’m pretty sure it got the message across.
I want a bit more clarification!
Is it only male Hobos?
Are there any female counterparts?
I’d hate to think of you only attracting the Men-bahookys.
Get doing what ya do for the ladies Lilu! LOL
Drunks and old men. That’s me. Where do you wash that scent off? Let me know.
Hey there,
I’m new here and have enjoyed reading your blog (I came via Restaurant Refugee though I can’t remember how I got to his blog).
Anyway, since we don’t have many bums (hobos if that’s more pc) out here in the ‘burbs, I get hit on by weirdos–normal lookin’ folk who say bizarre things that don’t make sense. Perfect example for you–I was walking in the mall and a guy walked up to me. He said “I think you’re very pretty. Do you salivate?” HUH?! I literally heard a record scratch in my head as I tried to figure out where the hell he was headed with the question. All I could think to do was say “thanks but I gotta go now” and get outta dodge.
Fiona: I don’t really think I’m the ladies’ type… the many times I’ve been in gay bars, it was only the men who cooed over my shoes and wanted to dance with me…
Kate: If only I knew.
Karen: Welcome! And thanks for delurking
Maybe he was priming you for an attack kiss, but it only turns him on if it’s sloppy?… I think you made the right decision.
When I was on patrol back in the day – homeless guy showed me his pink thong and rapped to me.
NICE
Homeless: the other white meat.
Wow. You get a lot lot lot more attention than I do. I kind of want to walk down 14th St with you so I can be invisible. This weird thing lately is that I get a lot when I wear this one particular pair of boots. They’re completely flat, so it’s not that they’re tarty, but they invite comments from the seemingly homeless. I don’t know what the deal is.
Hi-Five Hard to Get? No you DID-ENT!!!
Are you sure its not Arjewtino? He likes this sort of thing apparently.
The photo of that black man doesn’t sicken me; it awakens with me a sleeping sense of empathy. I am sorry to see such an image (and rarely do now that I live and work in northern Virginia.)
You are right about the Hispanic men, though. The alpha male rarely need make a show of dominance but the omegas try to assert their male privilege (the idea that the lowest male outranks the highest female) and, when you combine that with Latino culture, it’s completely fucking obnoxious.
When I lived in D.C., my ex-girlfriend got harassed a lot but my favorite story was the time a bum threw a sandwich at her and it stained her shirt. Then he called her a bitch. He must have been highly intuitive.
Zip: Pink! At least he’s got styyyyle.
Mooooog: *GROOOOOAAAAAN*
Lisa: Let’s do it! I’ll put on your tarty boots and we’ll count how many cat calls we can get on Connecticut.
dmb5 Libra: Oh, I went there. I WENT THERE.
rs27: He must have a great wig guy. And a guy who does cat-eyes.
M@: Yeah, the second picture actually wrenched my heart a little too. I felt like he needed to be shared.
It’s the hissing sound the Latinos make that really gets me… it makes my skin crawl.
Maybe you should stop hanging out on catwalks over water with your side-ponytail, you Hobo Magnet.
Latinos hiss and they ALL–to a fucking man–know how to whistle. If you observe them, Hispanic men will communicate with one another over a distance with a system of whistling.
Geesh Lu, let the man have his wet dream. It’s apparently the closest thing to a bath he’s going to have for a while!!
P.S. I’m still not sure that my story yesterday is actually worse than you REGULARLY attracking bums!
FattyLumpa: CRIMPED side-ponytail. Get it right, hooker.
M@: I believe you’re right. If only I could crack it…
Snow White: Okay, we’re tied. And your comment about the bath just made me snarf my vodka and Fresca.
Don’t judge…
My daughter used to walk to work in Baltimore from where she lived in Fells Point to Johns Hopkins, an area so sketchy I was loath to drive through it. What I could never figure out was the motivation for the remarks she reported to me. I mean in what universe would something like that work even if it came from someone who didn’t smell like a garbage strike?
Tell ya what – begging must pay well because that shirt Nick Nolte is pulling off is amazing.
It’s probably your eyes. You have to keep an eye on things, and make it known you’re being alert, for safety, but when you make eye contact, you’re a beggar target. Invest in “I’m a cold-ass-bitch” pair of sunglasses. Works for me – I hate it when I go downtown and forget my dark glasses!
Those guys remind me of someone who spoke to me this afternoon.
I have a sort of TMI post for you. I don’t know how to make a link here in the comments but here’s the address:
http://photo-cyn-thesis.blogspot.com/2009/01/fish-pedicure-comes-to-aspen-hill.html
you someone to avoid you, homeless or otherwise, it’s all about eye contact, or actually lack thereof – aggressively do NOT make eye contact. I have dodged the malakas of Greece, the gigolos of Italy, and the hobos outside Starbucks with this very trick.
Spellbound: Ugh. My parents were none too thrilled about me moving to DC either, but that’s because they lived here almost 30 years ago… Columbia Heights was a very different place. I’ve moved since then anyway, but I understand how you felt!
Narm: Ha- at least he dressed up for the mug shot.
Connie: I am now officially on the hunt for some “I’m a cold-ass-bitch” sunglasses. LOVE it.
Cyndy: I thought you actually went- GROSS!
emmajames: Italy was tough, I’ll give you that. After Rome, I totally should be able to handle Farragut Square.
That’s still one of the best pics ever.
Dr Zibbs: Welcome! And true story. It will haunt him the rest of his life.