oh, baby come back!
you can smoke some crack...with...me!
can't smoke without you!
(sung to "Baby Come Back" from those swiffer commercials)
So I am going down to the gym this morning to work on my buns and thighs, much as I do every day, and the following conversation with the smartass guards ensues (I say "smartass" in the most loving way possible, those guys are hilarious and I truly love them for their bad jokes and yearning to insult both me and Tylester on a daily basis):
First, a little backstory: Last Friday we had naturalization. While normally the only reason I care is I like looking at the hot ladies (and laughing at some of the more homely ones until I realize I am laughing at a mirror), this one was different. For some reason, I had to dress up to the friggin 9s and tape this crap, and on a Friday to boot?! I rebelled in the only way I knew how - by wearing my suspenders and looking like an overweight Baptist ghetto preacher. Apparently, this made the guards' day, and they spent a good few minutes laughing at me every time I dared walk past them.
Anyway, like I said I was heading into the gym, and Colonel Sanders guard (He looks just like the Colonel. Ask Tylester) is talking to a police officer, and he makes some snarky comment about how hawt I looked in my suspenders. That's all good, I did think the suspenders looked pretty snazzy on me, and suspenders are the ONLY thing that look better on fat men than on skinny men; in fact, all I was missing was a beard and a condescending attitude to make the whole thing complete.
While we are joking around in front of the cop, the other guard pipes up that next time I should wear the suspenders with the tutu, and all hell breaks loose. You see, no one, NO FUCKING ONE, in this entire building has ever forgotten the tutu, and I constantly hear about it, from people walking up and rubbing the skin on my arm and proclaiming how smooth it is and how smooth my legs were when I wore the tutu (NO I do not shave my legs, I just don't grow body hair for some disgusting reason, totally gay, well on my ass I have a tiny dinglebeard, or wish I did (that would rawk)), to people asking at all times of the day "Hey there cutie where's your tutu?"
I'm not gonna lie I like the attention and the fact that I am remembered, but man you would think I am a movie star sometimes! Wait until they see my assless chaps I plan on wearing for Halloween this year!
So the guard is talking about how people were looking at me funny the day I was walking around like that, how they couldnt tell if I was a man or a woman and all that, and the other guard turns to the cop and goes "Hey, I think I got a picture that I carry with me" and with that opens his phone and shows the cop, who looks at the picture, and then at me with a look I would rather not recreate for fear it will invade my mind again.
Which was more disturbing, the fact that the cop now has even less respect for me after seeing that, or the fact that a grown black guy wearing a tutu is some other dude's cell phone background?