The other day I was walking from the post office located near Times Square. I’ll admit, I was looking a bit cute that day. I had on some blue fitted jeans, 2 inch knee high brown boots, my Miss Sixty coat (the one with the peacock pleats in the back that make the booty look a lil bit perky). I was also sporting a brand new short hair cut (thanks Rihanna).
Anyway enough about me… It was about 5:30pm and I was headed back to the plantation work. Men smiled and said good evening as I ‘click clacked’ my heels on the pavement. As you may know Times Square is FULL of tourists. This guy wearing a huge back pack and carrying a train map and a duffle bag makes a bee line and starts walking along side of me. I thought ‘poor thing…lost in the big city, maybe I can help him’. While maintaining my stride I shifted into TomTom mode – giving him my attention – ready to give directions. He mumbles something in an accent. I ask him to repeat. He says to me in broken english…‘I am from France, can we get a coffee?’
At this point I’m shocked to the third power because the conversation didn’t start with:
1. ‘Ayo shorty…can I talk to you for a second’
2. ‘Can I get your number? [Oh right I am a complete stranger] Ok take mine.’
3. ‘Is your man treating you right?’
Man, is this how they holla in France? If so i’ll move there ASAP. I declined the coffee although he seemed sincere. Chances are, the minute I looked away from my starbucks latte, he would’ve dropped something in it and I would’ve woken up in the Matrix. Its was nice though, maybe i’ll see him if I take a trip to Paris. Oui!Oui!
(photo by malias)