After about 2 weeks of being confined to the front desk in the exciting role of phone bitch, I was at last able to resume my normal work activities. This meant I was back out there, out in the hustle, knee deep in urban goodness, keepin it real out in the gangsta's paradise.
I stepped out of the building and shielded my eyes as they adjusted to the bright lights of the scorching August sun. I shuffled on over to a local eatery where I purchased a Nature Valley granola bar, Oat & Honey style. My patrol was rather uneventful aside from observing all the lovely lovelies who I luckily decided not to yell anything weird at this time. You know, something like, " Mmm Girl you know I like my peanut butter chunky!"
As I approached the corner of 36th and 8th, I saw this homeless woman. A fe-vagrant. A Wobum. Anyway, she was about 5'3, but her hair made her 5'9. Her grey t-shirt had a variety of stains from unidentifiable liquids. Her jeans were more shredded than the slopes after I'm done snowboarding. She kind of looked like a darker and better dressed Macy Gray.
So, Bonequeesha here was heading right towards me. However she was not walking as everyone else was. She was dancing. It was a pretty jazzy bebop strut she had goin to whatever music was playing in her head. Judging by the rhythm she had I can only guess it was either Rumpshaker or In The Mood. Not wanting to get in the way of a crazy person's dance party, I angled myself away from her path. Imagine my surprise when she adjusted her trajectory to once again be right in front of me...
Shit! She is looking for a dance partner and has locked on to me. She must have noticed my natural rhythm and hips that can match any Latino when it comes to lusty gyrations. I had to shake this nutjob free before I wound up being fondled by a crackhead....again.
I jumped to the right. She quickly bounced right in front of me again. Crud! I had to get serious. With a move that hasn't been seen since Barry Sanders retired, I faked left. She bit! Then POW! I shifted my weight right and juked that crazy broad. (Tiny Margarita gave me that one)
Yeah! Take that you smelly layabout! I beat you in street moves and in living under a roof!
As I sailed on by, I saw she began to start pumping her arms and thrusting her hips forward in what I can only assume was an attempt to zoom a zoom zoom in my boom boom.
At the time I was terrified. Having had time to reflect on it though, I do miss her. Cause I, had... the time of my liiife. No I never felt that way before...
come together, right now (literally)
3 years ago
11 comments:
Your prowess with the ladies just continues to grow, Ryan. LOL
Wait...those aren't the same lusty gyrations that got you stuck in that glory hole in that Jersey truck stop, are they?
I eagerly anticipate the premiere of your reality show, Dancing with the Tards.
just tossing aside the affections of every lady he meets on the streets, playing hard to get . . .
Well, you obviously don't need MySpace to pick up the ladies.
If you see her again, you should challenge her to a Pants Off Dance Off.
I sense you are a Flight of the Conchords fan.
I told you not to wear those tight jean shorts. You're just asking for it.
36th & 8th, did you say? Hmmm, Me be pretty sure me once did the same dance with her on 61st & B'way.
Must be yer swagger and natural animal magnitism...
STOMP
Sounds like she's been separated from the rest of the pack...many of whom, unfortunately, reside in the downtown core of my lovely city.
you two could have gone on the road and street performers, made millions of dollars. My friend, I'm sorry to tell you, you just missed THE chance.
See what jean shorts attract? Stinky, dirty homeless people.
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