June 17, 2008...2:31 am

I Make Unwanted Friends

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Strangers almost invariably try to make friends with me. And hey, I’m all for meeting new people: friends of friends, fellow party guests, your local grocer. Sure. But the strangers that try to befriend me are consistently, well, strange. 

Take today for example. I’m walking down my street on a beautiful morning, listening to Beck on my iPod, gripping an inordinately large umbrella that most certainly could double as a weapon. I’m walking fast, swinging my arms, demonstrating all that body language people say gives an unwelcome message to possible attackers. And then, this…unusual fellow, walking with his friend, safety pins stuck in his lip, hair teased in its gravity-defying East Village way, is wearing a t-shirt that says, “I’m a whore for hot midget sex.” Mmmhhmmm. And here I am, by myself, all 4′10 of me in my stupid dress and heels like I dropped out of the fucking sky for this guy’s personal pleasure. 

So what do we think midget-sex-lover does, says, “Nice to meet you?” Employs the typical cat-call popular among construction workers worldwide? Nope, my new friend starts jumping up and down like a MONKEY making monkey noises and pointing at me in delight. While his friend just smirks like, ” Yep, I set this up on purpose.” 

I’m sort of surprised he didn’t follow me and ride the subway with me all the way to work. I totally owe it to the weapon-brella. 

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