Thrice in the last two days have I been approached by a man in a car, as I'm walking down the street in jeans, sneakers, t-shirt, hoodie, saying "Can I get your number?".
Men whom I've never met calling me "Baby" and "Mami" as if those were the only roles I played, but most certainly not to them.
Why?
What misguides these men to think they'll win my heart whilst courting me through a car window?
Do they even want my heart?
No. Nor do I want theirs.
Judging by the way I hear some men I encounter talk about women, who would want a woman?
Bitches, Bitches, Bitches, Bitches.
Who would want to be a woman? Whores. Skanks. Sluts. Bitches. Meat.
Always wanting your money.
Always wanting your package.
Open 24/7 like a convenience store if, in return, you'll guarantee us some conveniences.
"Save your breath, Sir, You may need it; I most certainly don't."
When you expell that breath to shout for me, you rob my of my own, for all I become is an inanimate object with a "tight ass" and a "great rack".
Clothes are "tight" and "racks" hold clothes.
Can my clothes be bought off of this rack?
Not for retail price, and most certainly at no discount.
Unless of course, I'm damaged goods, then by all means, I'm yours.
Was it a tight squeeze into my jeans?
You'll most certainly never know.
Ask And Ye Shall Recieve
2 days ago
