THE SCENE: Me, walking down Broadway between 178 and 179th streets on a 60 degree day in February, enjoying my lunch break. Mr. Man is heading my way with his buddy, and gives me an exaggerated look up and down.
Mr. Man: Yo baby, you’re gorgeous! I wanna hit that! Mmmmmmmmm…..
Me: (walking, walking, and then bam: 180) Sir, can I take your picture?
Mr. Man: Why do you want to take my picture?
Me: Because I’m taking pictures of everyone who thinks I’m pretty today.
Mr. Man: Girl, you can take my picture everyday!
The weirdest part was, as soon as I started talking to him I could sense that he wasn’t a kidnapper, rapist, or even really an asshole. He was just a confused guy with absolutely no lady skills. Still, if I hadn’t turned around for the HOLLABACK, I would have walked on feeling a little shaken and self-conscious. How I am supposed to know which are the nice guys and which just don’t get it?
Hollaback 1, Mr. Man 0.
Play better next time.
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