On Saturday evening, I was out walking with Rasputin and friend Armando. I was wearing a fitted, hot-pink skirt, a white blouse, and pink flats and was carrying a matching pink purse. I always get plenty of attention when I wear this skirt, and Saturday evening was no exception.
A few blocks from the ocean, we came across a BBQ. About a dozen adults and a few small children were spilling out of an apartment onto the front steps and the sidewalk. The adults held beers, and one guy was grilling on a Webber set up in the grassy strip betweeen the sidewalk and the street. Because this party had no front yard, as the steps to the front door of the apartment came right down to the sidewalk, we had to pass through them to get to the ocean.
One woman called out to us as we passed, "I love your skirt!"
On the way back, we stopped to talk. The same woman came up to me, bottle in hand, with two small children clamoring about her knees. She had long, black hair and really gorgeous tatoos of flowers and birds up both arms. She wore a low-cut sun dress that showed off her ample breasts. She had definitely had a bit to drink.
She cooed, "Oh, I love your skirt. Hot pink. Where did you get it?" Goodwill, I told her. Then she moved closer. "Can I touch your butt?" she asked. Sure, go for it. She rubbed my butt with her open palm. As this is a silk-lined skirt, this felt very nice.
"Oh, what an ass!" she declared. "You should all feel this ass!"
The men looked at me, then at Armando. As he said later, if he had not been there, they probably would have taken turns.
More friends of the birthday girl--you guessed it, the brunette with the tatoos--arrived, and she went to greet them, leaving my butt behind.
I just laughed and smiled about her all the way home. What a friendly neighborhood we live in!
The next day, my son and I passed the party apartment on our evening walk with Rasputin. Two hungover men were sitting on the steps. "How late did the party go?" I asked, reminding them that I was the gal with the nice ass. "It's still going on for some," one said, "and it'll be going on until Tuesday."
Wow, four days of partying! If they do that for all of the adults' birthdays, that's 48 days of partying a year just there. Then add all the holidays, and you begin to wonder how these folks make their drinking money.
Mystical experiences, yearnings, politics, little dramas, poetry, kidney dialysis, insulin-dependent diabetes, and opportunities for gratitude.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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About Me
- Heidi's heart
- Southern California, United States
- Perhaps my friend Mark summed me up best when he called me "a mystical grammarian." I am quite a mix--otherworldly, ethereal and in touch with "the beyond," yet prone to being very precise and logical, when need be. Romantic in the big-canvas meaning of the word, I see the world as an adventure, as a love poem, as a realm of beauty and wonder.
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