Bus Boys Love Me

I find that professional men are not attracted to me.

I really don’t know why. I’m certainly cute enough.

But no bites from doctors and lawyers.

And since I’m a highly educated professional myself, I would like to date within my group. I mean, I’m not stuck up about it or anything, but I deserve something good, don’t I?

But, ya know who’s really into me? Bus boys.

And parking garage attendants.

Oh, and food take out delivery boys.

It just happened yesterday. I was walking into my building and as i walked through the front doors, a delivery guy was walking out. He looked at me. Then, as I passed, he hissed at me!

Do you know what that is?

Well, they don’t whistle anymore. They don’t do kissing noises either. They hiss. “Ssssss.”

That’s the kinda guy that I like. A guy that hisses at me.

Why me God?

Now, a doctor or lawyer that hisses at me. Well, that’s a horse of a different color!

Blue shoes and Obama, sittin in a tree

It was President Obama!

That’s right. He was meeting with Al Sharpton.

I wish he would have stopped. I’m sure he could have hooked me up with a Gucci make-up case.

I have no time for this! I have to get to Saks!

Finally, one of the cops yells, “Ok, you can cross. But do it now, because the street’s going to be closed for the next 20 minutes!!”

I thought, “I better go, go, go before I’m stuck here all night. Without Gucci.”

“Bye. Bye. Obama! I’m off to Saks.”

Saks didn’t have any Gucci, Prada, or freakin’ Coach for that matter, for under 200 bucks. And the customer service sucked.

Everyone was telling me I should buy a scarf, while yawning and avoiding eye contact.

Ugh!

Still no word from Angelina.

I decided to leave Saks and head back to Gucci. Forget this! And forget Angelina! I’ll just buy the make up case for $190 and I’ll pay the difference, I thought.

I finally got to Gucci at 7:03 P.M.

Try to open the door.

Pull. Pull.

It must be stuck.

Pull. Pull.

The big Gucci-suited bouncer grunted, “We’re closed.”

“Go away and come back tomorrow.”

Now what? All this, and nothing to show for it but a tryst with the Prez.

I looked right. Do I just go get the bus home?

I looked left. Or should I walk back to Saks?

I walked right, to the bus stop, empty handed, and waited 25 minutes in the rain and cold in my fabulous turquoise spring coat. A lady at the bus stop complimented my blue coat.

Ring, ring.

It’s Angelina. I updated her. She still wanted to get handmade jewelry from her friend. She didn’t think designer accessories were very JWOW anymore anyway. Whatever the fuck that means.

Do we really care anymore? It’s crunch time! We are not shopping for the freakin’ Queen of England here. Let’s just buy something and she can just exchange it for the love of God!!

But I was nice. Angelina said she’d go shopping tomorrow on her day off.

This is ridiculous.

I think I wanna buy my own gift.

I bumped into President Obama racing to Gucci

I’m invited to a birthday party for a work girlfriend, JWow. Another co-worker was invited as well, Angelina. Angelina and I thought we’d go together. And perhaps go in on a birthday gift together as well. Sounds pretty basic. Yes?

No.

We had a budget of $100.

Weeks prior to the event, I started coming up with gift ideas. I asked Angelina, “How about a gift certificate to Ouidad curly hair salon?”

“No. She got a treatment.”

“How about a hand made knit scarf?”

“No. Spring is coming.”

Angelina has a friend who makes jewelry. She suggested that, but I didn’t feel it was enough from two people.

So, she said she’d go shopping on her day off.

… But she didn’t.

I was coming up with more ideas.

“Gucci?” Online, the cell phone case or the make-up cases were $150.

Angelina agreed to the make-up case. So I was going to go to Gucci to pick it up. By then, it was the Wednesday before the party. There was no time to order online, which would have been much simpler.

I planned to go over to Fifth Avenue after work. I got on the bus to Bergdorf Goodman. They have Gucci AND it’s my favorite store. It took forever to get there. What’s up with the traffic today?

Got there and they didn’t have the make-up case. But they suggested I buy a scarf for my budget. I stopped by the Chanel counter on the way. This was a very dangerous venture for me, but I survived unscathed.

Off to Gucci!

Walked a block over to Gucci. Jeez! Nothing was under $200 there. Not even the make up cases I saw online for $150!

They suggested I buy a scarf.

Now what do I do?

Off to Saks Fifth Avenue.

I began to walk the seven blocks to 49^th Street and 5^th Avenue, in the rain.

I’m hungry.

I’m tired.

I called Angelina to get her input. No answer.

Bitch.

As I approached 53^rd Street, there were police and a motorcade. And they weren’t allowing anyone to cross the street.

Damn! Don’t they know I need to get to Saks!!

It was President Obama!

I thought we were going to go out for drinks, not have a sleep over!

I decided to move to Manhattan so I’d have an easier social life.

I was wrong.

It was difficult living in Long Island and going to events in the city. I always had a million bags with me and was wearing goofy work clothes to an after-work party. Then, it was a whole ordeal getting a train back to Long Island.

I remember one time, driving in to a party with my LI girlfriends. They drove. They were so late picking me up, that we literally missed the party!

I really have a pet peeve about lateness. But that’s a whole other blog post I guess.

So, once I started living in the city, yes, getting myself to events was easier. The problem is, NOBODY ELSE LIVES IN THE CITY!!!

None.

None of my friends live in the city. Half live in LI. Half in New Jersey.

So, when there is an event in the city, they want to sleep over on my couch.

Now, I’m a generous kind of gal. But I’m no push over.

If I let them stay over once, they would assume they’d sleep over every time they bought a pack of gum.

They’d be like, “Ok. So, we’ll go out for dinner, then drinks, then in the morning blah, blah, blah.”

“Huh? Um. Excuse me? Did I say anything about the morning?”

Why is it, if I make plans to have drinks with someone that I have to be prepared to make them coffee, scrambled eggs and bagels the next morning?

Fuck that shit.

I wanna sleep late in the morning. I want to walk around my apartment with hairy legs and my hair in a three-foot afro all morning. And not brush my teeth until noon, dammit!

If I have company I can’t do that. AND my place has got to be tidy.

What the Fu--?

Ok Mom. So I didn’t curse that time. That one was for you. You, who does not even read this unless I force you too!

I once had a friend who wanted to hang out in the city. We were making plans for weeks. Then she popped the question. “What are we gonna do the next morning?”

To which I replied, and which is the reason I no longer have this friend, “Oh. I thought we were going to a concert, not having a sleep over.”

Ok. So was that so bad?

The friend then said, “Oh. Then let’s do it another time.”

You mean to tell me that if this person wasn’t going to be able to sleep over my place that we weren’t going out?

Yep. It’s true. And it’s not just one person. This happens all the time.

F- them!

If they want to sleep in the city so bad, let them pay rent and New York prices. Or get a friggin’ hotel room.

It’s different if I offer. But THEY ask. How rude.

It just happened again the other day, which is why I’m thinking about this again. A friend from Jersey asked if I wanted to go to an event with her in May. I said yes. She said, “Can I sleep on your couch?”

Damn! I was caught off guard. I didn’t know what to say. How to respond. But it’s hard finding girlfriends in New York City. And beggars can’t be choosers, right?

So, I guess I should clean the bacteria off my couch.

Hmmm. Or should I??