RazzyBlog

In spite of her amazingly hot ass (in this picture), my biggest complaint about Jade is that she looks kind of old. Even though she's not, it looks like she's slapping on an inch-thick layer of foundation to cover up her wrinkly complexion. Then I remember, Jade is 26. A fucking year YOUNGER than me. So maybe shriveling bitches like myself with the slight beginnings of crows' feet should reserve such harsh judgment.

Just as I was pondering the mystery of Jade's continued retention on "ANTM," I walked Caesar and Chingy! past the corner M3 bus stop. Since I was lost in thought about Tyra Banks calling Jade out for fake crying at judging, I made inadvertant eye contact with a guy leaning against the bus stop sign.

The number one rule for walking around New York City after dark unmolested, especially in a neighborhood like Sugar Hill where a single (read: unaccompanied by a Y-chromosome-bearing individual) blonde haired, blue eyed girl is an obvious minority, is to not make eye contact with random people. The second your eyes meet, it's an open invitation for a bullshit exchange, often involving excessive usage of the terms "sweetie" or "mami" to address me. However, since I'm not the type to walk around diminuitive and cowed like some consumption-ridden bitch in a Bronte novel, my strategy to avoid eye contact is to spend all my time scanning the street around me, thus appearing vigilant, wary, and ready for anything. I think this not only gives me a bitchy appearance, but also makes me seem like a bad target for random crime because of my general awareness and well-honed observational skills. Unfortunately, one of the cons of this strategy is that with all the scanning, you sometimes happen to scan a random stranger. Then you have to acknowledge said stranger, because it's just stupid to run around in life pretending that other people don't exist. I do this with a perfunctory nod of my head, which I hope is simultaneously polite and congenial but also discouraging to people who want to talk to me. This gesture needs a little work, though, because random men sometimes think I'm throwing out an open invitation for conversation.

This guy at the bus stop was harmless, but he also wasn't cute or remotely my age, so I had no intention of chatting him up. However, he decided to follow up on my eye contact and courtesy nod (granted, the shirt I'm wearing tonight is a little on the low-cut side, but cleavage does not imply friendliness!). He takes a long drag on his cigar, one of those midsize stogies with the plastic mouthpiece, and checks out me, and then my dogs. He fixes upon Caesar, who is pulling hard on his leash in an attempt to eat a discarded and half-stepped-on steak fry near the corner garbage can.

I forget that people are often scared of Caesar when they first see him, because to me, he is the dog that jumps on my lap when a car backfires. He is the dog that cries when I'm up to bat at softball, and hides behind my legs when people yell. His fear of fireworks is so extreme that it inspires *explosive* diarrhea. Consequently, I'm not sure how people see a dog trotting around with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and his tail wagging like some kind of superpowered metronome and think intimidation, but they must. This guy decided to comment on this.

"Well protected, I see," he said, chomping on his White Owl or whatever.

"Always," I say with a pointedly obligatory polite chuckle. Then I keep walking, but not fast enough to keep him from throwing in his two cents.

"AND well preserved," he hollers after me.

Well preserved? WELL PRESERVED?!?! What am I, the fucking canopic jars of Tutankhamen? Fuck you, asshole! I'm only 27!!!!

This guy just served up my fitting reward for mocking Jade's aged appearance. I guess the next time I decide to make fun of an "ANTM" wannabe for looking older than 21, I should take a gander in the mirror. Because when random old men who take the bus start telling me I look good for my age, I am in no position to Jade-hate. Particularly when I'm too short and too elderly to even qualify for an ANTM audition (cutoffs: 5'8" and 26 YO or less). Then again, this doesn't bother me much, since I'm not trying to be America's Next Top Model. Like I'd ever go on a show hosted and produced by a washed up ex-NBA hoochie trying to be America's Next Top Oprah. Fuck a "one hundred THOUSAND dollar contract with Cover Girl," I'll be happy just to get enough NIH funding to cover the next two years' worth of experiments for my nerd degree. In my estimation, I've paid my karmic debt for belittling unattractive aging mid-twenties-year-old bitches everywhere, so even though I'm terrifyingly almost 30, I can mock Jade with impunity:

You're old, bitch! Quit while you still have a shred of dignity!

# posted by Razzy @ 8:14 PM