Get ready for this ramble because I am pressed.
I am a lady. I love flattery, I love being told I am pretty when I take time to make myself so. I believe that compliments go a long way in this world and that everyone should try to give one out every day.
But let me tell you what I do not like.
I do not like when I am honked at or yelled at prejoratively because I “look fine.” I do not like being called “ma” or “sis” or “baby” or “sweetie.” Most of all, I hate being referred to as “yo.”
My pent up frustration with the world is reaching its tipping point. Way too many front to bumper accidents almost happen every day because some idiot holds up traffic to honk and stare. Mind you–I am not trying to say I am all that or anything, I am just stating reality.
My usual response is to ignore these people, mind my own business and keep on to my destination. Sometimes this works, but other times the fool has the audacity to follow me for a few steps. I usually keep walking at that point too.
But I am so pressed right now that I fear for the next poor soul who crosses me the next time.
And maybe if I am really in the mood.
Listen ya’ll. I’m crazy. Don’t hit me on the wrong day. You’ve been warned.