Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Public Displays of Idiocy

     Lately, I've been forgetting I am in public.  Hilarious?  Yes.  Practical?  No.  A few weeks ago, I was walking home from my bus stop after dark.  There was no one behind me and no one coming towards me.  I took the appropriate vigilant measures to make sure not to act like a freak in front of other humans.
     Dearest reader, I have a confession to make.  I love white rapper music(also sometimes legit rap music by serious rappists, but mostly gag-rap by men with troubled pasts and mock cocaine addictions).  The pinnacle of this love affair with white rappers is the one and only, Dirt Nasty.
     He had just released the teaser for his new side project with an electro guy, and they made a sick new track with Don't You Want Me Baby as the chorus.  IRL, I got dis cray memory for unimportant facts and song lyrics(especially 90's cartoon theme songs), it never ceases to amaze people.
     Dropping rhymes like a bar of soap in a maximum security prison with a high rate of deprivation homosexuality,  I got so into the song.  Headphones blaring the bumpin' beats, nothing was stopping me from whipping out the rap hands and flailing them like nobody's buisness whist bobbing my head like a real thug missus.  I was mortified when a dad, with a baby in a Snugly, materialized from behind a car.
     I avoided eye contact, waited till it was appropriate to begin flapping around again, and booked it home with a giant smile on my face and the reddest cheeks the night has ever seen.
     Later that week, I waved fervently at a guy I didn't know at all.  Things I had to ask myself after I started talking out loud to him while sitting alone on on the bus and making far too exaggerated facial expressions through the glass at him were, "why is he in the passenger seat of his own car?  Why is this not his license plate?" and most importantly, "why does he only vaguely resemble what he is supposed to look like?".  Good job lady, at least no one sat with you for the rest of the bus ride.   In my defence, he got really excited and waved back too.
     I managed to embarrass myself further over the next weeks by describing a professor's luscious auburn beard.  Going into full detail how it is at that magical state when it becomes soft and luxurious to touch with the perfect ratio of length to fullness.  Turns out he decided to walk by I was saying all this with passion and conviction.  Friends laughing hysterically, my face so flushed it felt like my skin would melt off, and the professor probably extremely flattered and creeped out, a grand time was had by all. Thankfully, he is my friend's former professor, and I don't plan on taking any history classes so I think we're golden.