Mad Props. . .
Mad props to the guy who tried to holla at me today. Now, normally I don't respond well to the "ay shawty, lemme holla atcha" type of thing. Actually, I never respond well to it. I always blow the brotha off, give him a crazy look or something, because he doesn't know me, never seen me before or anything, what makes him think that he wants to get with me, or that I want to get with him? Today was a little different though. I was rushing out to the bus and this guy held the door open for me, he was coming in, I was going out. Me, being the polite person I am, smiled warmly and said "Thank you." and he said:
"No problem, how you doin"
"I'm fine."
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Elizabeth"
"oooooooh, Elizabeth (he said it like my name was just so fine, and he was so attracted to it.)
I was walking away, because of course, I didn't want to miss the bus.
"Wait, come here"
"Noooo, I gotta catch this bus, bye!"
It amused me. Now, why do I give him props? Because this guy was trying to holla at me, and I looked like a hot mess. I had on my ever so loved Edinburgh sweatshirt that I've worn on almost every cool day since I got back from Scotland, and jeans, gym shoes. I wasn't looking cute at all, not even a little bit. I don't think I had even taken a shower actually. So, mad props, mad props to the brotha.