a walk in the park

it's official, i'm going to make my "NO SOLICITING" t-shirt.

there have been multiple minor stories on why i want to make this shirt, for example:

flashback two weeks, venice, california:

i took an afternoon walk down to the beach. on my way back, about two blocks from my house, semi-residential street...i'm listening to my bochpod when i realize a white bronco (or some similar ride) has started cruisin beside me...some sketch-face dude (we'll call him OJ) is leering out the window. *ugh*. he asks me to stop and motions for me to approach him....right about now i'm having flashbacks of "Strangers n Dangers", the board game my mom got me when i was 10, warning minors of every pervert society has to offer. kinda like a street version of Candyland. the goal being that if your little plastic kid made it all the way around the board, you'd never be kidnapped or molested... phew, i ROCKED that game.

i stayed on the sidewalk and asked fitty cent what he wanted. he makes some ghetto "come on baby" lil' jon-video facial expression...(*swoon*). at this point i notice there is no visual on his hands, they're concealed by his door and he's making no attempt to show he's "harmless". Strangers n Dangers would suggest he's packin a piece or shaking out a roofie (recall i don't live in belair, so my streets are patrolled by tax payers dollars).

i ask what he wants...."ah baby i got some questions"..... uh, okay like what? .... "liiiiike, what's yo' name, what're yo' plans, yo blah blahb halbhbkahha." sorry dude, not interested and i continued walking. he slowly followed me half a block. then i mentally freak. fuck he's in a car, how long has he been following me? WHERE ARE HIS HANDS? i'm close to home, DO NOT GO HOME.

thirty-five minutes later, after i've weaved through blocks and alleys, circled the taco truck, practically walking backwards, i made it to my front door. my male neighbors were smoking in the courtyard and i thankfully provided detailed descriptions. they're response, "does that really work? i mean should i start picking up girls that way?" ugh...NO.

fast forward to today:

i'm still in san francisco, enjoying unemployment and becky & jeremie's apartment. this afternoon i applied for a job, then got a bit bored and decided to go on a bike ride to the beach...only i couldn't find the "dildo looking thing" to inflate the bike tires (jeremie's description). no dong-pump = no bike, so i resorted to plan B. i slipped on my ass-accentuating plum yoga pants (mistake #1), hoodie, bochpod and walked up to golden gate park with a book of short stories in hand. (i figured i'd read while throwin back some pricey tea).

mindin my own business, i passed multiple joggers, women with strollers and the such. one guy in particular had run past and stopped at his car, i didn't pay much attention. when i walk i think a lot, it's what i do. so as i rounded a hill up to Stow Lake, a particularly funny memory popped into my head and i started laughing to myself. well it was a windy afternoon and my hair was down, so as i was laughing and brushing the hair out of my face i looked over to notice the sweaty dude deadlocked on my face. *oh shit*. i couldn't tell if he thought i was laughing and smiling at him or he just liked what he saw, but i knew that probably just played out in his mind like a doublemint commercial, slow mo.

i tried to look away, but he had already motioned for me to stop. *damnit* i didn't want to be uber-rude and ignore him, but i was in no way interested in a random curbside pickup. i slowed and removed one of my headphones, he was catching his breath from running and asking me my name, (apparently in a pinch, my name is carrie)... i think he said his name was Mike, the wind was carrying his words away and i kept moving. he asked me to stop and chat, i politely called out that i was meeting someone and had to go, he asked me out to dinner, i panicked for an answer but still scrounged up a classy, "thanks but no thanks"...most of the time they stop talking to me by now.

he wasn't creepy at all like the others, i think he was just taking a chance which was kind of endearing (about 10% endearing, 90% please stop talking to me) at this point i think he panicked b/c he was grasping and still gurbling things through the breeze. so i looked back one last time and he threw out, "I'LL GIVE YOU LIKE 200 DOLLARS!"... uuuuuuuuuuum, WHAT?!?! at that point, i laughed, declined in disbelief and put my head phones back in. i think he kept talking, but i didn't turn back...i'd just catch him appreciating my ass or calling me a bitch. tonight he's probably thinking about it, pretending i was a supermodel. and i'm pondering what i could do with 200 bucks. mike, call me.

i pressed on, ignoring all humans and made it to the japanese tea garden without further incident. it was almost closing time, so i snagged the last cup of tea and read until i could no longer handle the thespians in front of me. somehow debating madonna's acting skills in "Evita" and Andrew Lloyd Webber's mediocre mass appeal was NOT high priority for me. oh but just in case you all wanted to know, when you're feeling down or don't want to see all the crappy movies that are made these days, "everyone loves 42nd street, i mean who doesn't love it?" i should have raised my hand. what was she gonna do, punch me?

some randomness:

old asian men have lots of phlegm. as i meandered out of the tea garden i happened apon two who were seemingly ridding their entire nervous systems of all mucus. why aren't elders socially concerned about how they dispose of excess body fluids? i mean, maybe they were trying to mark their territory, "get out of our garden white girl," *haaack pattoey*

why do people congregate to people? more specifically, if a person is standing in an empty field enjoying their space, why do strangers feel the need to invade it? this is something i initially noticed while studying in Europe. once when i was standing in a nearly empty plaza in Pamplona and again on a rainy afternoon at the Louvre, passerbys walked OUT of his/her way to pass within two feet of me...often forcing me to back up. AN EMPTY PLAZA - plenty of space for everyone. when i brought this up to my classmates, they agreed this happened all the time. if it's NYC, fine, i don't expect to have much space...but this was socially weird.

i only bring it up b/c it pertains to "part two" of my walk in the park. near the end of my trek i decided to circle Stow Lake again (mistake #2)...for those who've never been, stow lake is a very pleasant little spot, with a big pond encircling wooded paths and built up trees, a waterfall, big red pagoda thing and plenty of wildlife. about every 50 feet or so there's one or two big long benches facing the lake. around 7:15 PM it was fairly sparse, people-wise. i wanted to finish reading my short story, so i stopped at a little clearing with two empty benches complete with wading ducks, poking pigeons and blackbirds.

not more than four minutes later an old man and his 11-ish year old grandson roll up on their bikes....TO MY EXACT SPOT. i looked left, looked right....empty benches as far as the eye could see. i brush it off. they start speaking, only it's not english. sounds more like german, definitely eastern european. intriguing, no big deal. then they start holloring and laughing about things i couldn't understand. dear happy people, please move left or right about 30 feet. sincerely, i-was-here-first.

it got better. instead of enjoying the ducks and birds as his grandfather tried, the little shit decided to scare them all away with the flare (read: annoyance) that only 11 year-old boys can execute. ducks were squawking, pigeons garbled and i lost my concentration. and when i say "scare away" i mean he would start screaming and run at them so they'd fly frantically INTO MY FACE . his gleeful bird-scattering was accompanied by a hideous "blah blech boogety boogety blah blach" roar. then he'd join his beaming gramps again and they'd share some sort of Hallmark moment while i checked myself for bird shit. after three or four "we're gonna leave, i mean scare off more birds" fake-out attempts, they finally sensed my bitch-dar and rode off into the sunset, literally.

i finished my daunting William Faulkner story soon after and walked back to 21st avenue, steering clear of any creepies achin' for a dinner date and all water fowl. why can't i just appreciate someone asking me out (maybe b/c they're not normal), no wonder jeremie calls me a lesbian. but i'm not - (not that there's anything wrong with that). *ugh*.

Posted by missy at May 9, 2005 8:09 PM