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10:45 PM - Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2005 He barrels up to my window and proceeds to ask me questions. He said, "Hey.. whatchyewr name?" I said, "I'm Jessica." He said, "How old a' yew?" I said, "Old enough." He said, "Good. Good." I know he was checking to make sure I was legal. Do I really look THAT young? He said, "Can I get into yewr car and talk ta yew?" I said, "I have to get to work. I'm sorry." He said, "Do yew have a man?" I said, "Yes. Yes, I do." He said, "Then why did yew stop?" I said, "because you asked me too." Well, basically he made me, but I'm too polite to point this out. He said, "Can I get yewr numbah?" Wait a minute. Didn't I just tell him that I had a man? I said, "I'm sorry. I'm from Boston. I'm just here for a little while." Remember, I have my brother's car now and it still has the Massachussettes tags on it. Eh. Eh. Eh. He said, "Oh.. yew's from Boston. Well, yew take care of yewr cute self." I said, "I will." And then I drove off. Wait a minute. I told him I had to get to work, and then I told him I was from Boston? He must be an idiot not to catch onto that. What is it with me and fast food restaurants? It's like, no matter where I go.. Wendy's, Mc Donald's, Arby's, Sonic, Spangles, Taco Tico... Dillon's.. the strange men come out of the brick and hit on me. Do I have a sign on my forehead that says, "Hit on me. I'll reject you, but it'll make my day." ?????? At least this time he wan't a fast food worker. Ryan says I need to start eating at fancy restaurants. Then at least the quality of men hitting on me will be a bit higher. I mean, would I rather be hit on by a waiter or a drive-thru clerk? I think God wants me to be with a black man. Nothing wrong with that. I'm not racist or anything... but when the majority of men who hit on me are black, you have to start wondering if there's some reason why black men have more courage to lay down the fliratious smack on me over white men. Not that I haven't been hit on by white men.. or Hispanics.. or Asians.. but they take the whole cake. It's interesting, though, that a black guy will take rejection differently than a white guy. I mean, they'll continue to hit on me and try really hard to get down my pants, whereas a white guy will just blow it off and move on his way... It's kind of flattering, until they look my body up and down and treat me like a sex object. Anyhow, I gotta go. Time to hit the hay. I just wanted to share my strange experience for the day. Wow. That rhymed.
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