Thursday, May 1, 2008

Street Smut

I was walking home from the office yesterday, and standing on the corner of Burrard and Smithe when I was approached by whom I can only describe as Amy Winehouse on rollerskates: black beehive, heavy black kohl eyeliner, satin short-shorts, and knee socks.  Her rollerskates were the classic retro white, with rainbow laces.  She had a blond, non-roller side-kick, wearing much the same slutty uniform, with the classy additions of a gold bomber jacket with "Jimmy" embroidered on the left breast, pink leg warmers, and a side ponytail.  The three of us stood on the corner, waiting for the light to change.  

Jimmy was checking her cell phone.  "Ugh," she muttered, flipping her phone shut and turning to Roller Amy.  "Psycho French guy called AGAIN.  Go AWAY, crazy!"  She rolled her eyes.  "We HATE him."

"Yeah, but you let him eat your pussy," pointed out Roller Amy.  At that, I couldn't help but laugh, and they both turned to me.  I smiled sheepishly; I'd clearly been listening, but then, Roller Amy hadn't been exactly discreet.   There was an awkward silence.  I was afraid Roller Amy would misinterpret my laugh as one of disdain rather than amusement, and slam a skate into my face. "Well, I think it might entitle him to ONE phone call," I offered.  The girls hooted with laughter, clearly relieved that I hadn't said something scathing.

The light changed, and we all walked (or rolled, as the case may be) across the street.  Jimmy sized me up:  "You look really cute, hon.  I looove your boots," she gushed.  No, I wasn't wearing my awesome turquoise leather boots which have been the subject of much blogging; I was wearing my "Gossip Girl" boots...blue suede stiletto ankle booties I bought after seeing Serena van der Woodsen rock them with a leopard dress (go ahead and mock me for liking Gossip Girl, but the boots are fierce).  "They make you look like a REAL LADY," Jimmy said.  "Umm, thanks...." I said.  I've never heard stiletto ankle boots described as lady-like, but I guess if you think satin short-shorts are appropriate Wednesday afternoon attire, my boots probably would seem a little sedate.  

Just then, two guys in a circa 1990s red Mustang convertible which had clearly seen better days, turning left on Burrard and into our crosswalk, started hooting out the window at us.  "Hey laaaadies," they shouted. "Looking goood."

This disturbed me for a couple of reasons, not least of all because White Trash Boys assumed that Roller Amy, Jimmy and I were a trio, despite my lack of rollerskates, beehive, or booty shorts.  It made me seriously re-think whether my choice of outfits was office appropriate.   Also...who not only drives a red circa 1990s Mustang convertible without shame, but actually thinks this entitles them to catcall?  Tackiness.

1 comment:

Heather said...

Haha, I heart you.