Why I prefer to walk in the dark

While Magnus and I were out for our evening stroll (minding our own business, I might add), I heard this electronically magnified voice boom out “DAMN that ASS is FAT as F-CK!” Actually, the guy really emphasized his words, so it sounded more like “DAAAAMMMMN, that AAAASSSSSS is FFFFAAAAAT as FFFF-----CK!”

 

3 guys. Blue pickup truck. Megaphone. I wish I had a way to find them. I may have a fat ass, but I’m also full of rage and I fight dirty.

 

The thing is, I am fully aware that my ass is wide, and, for that matter, saggy. I mean, I have a mirror and a television, so I know what I look like and what I’m expected to look like. I also know that I don’t have the fattest ass in the world, because they do make pants in bigger sizes than mine. What I don’t know is why anyone would feel the need to yell something like that at me when I’m just walking down the street, minding my own business. I would like to pretend like this doesn’t bother me, or like it says more about what kind of jerks those guys are than it says about me, but honestly, I’ve had kind of a crappy day and this really didn’t help me feel better about myself.

 

Also, all I want to do now is go eat a dozen donuts and never walk in the daylight again, so…way to go, effers. Oh, and this is the kind of thing that used to happen to me all the time when I was growing up in Urbana, so if you ever find yourself wondering why I have so many “man issues” when I have a good relationship with Joe D, well, this is why.