Hello, Gorgeous

We all have those days. You know the kind I'm talking about. You step out the door to begin a day of dealing with the scum of the earth; yet you feel pretty and mighty fine.

Nothing is going to bring you down today.

There's a noticeable spring in your step, an extra bounce to your ounce. Everything seems to be going your way; the public transit is running on time, your coffee stays neatly in the cup instead of spilling onto your lap (or making a mad dash down your chin), you remembered your sunglasses were neatly packed into your jacket pocket just as the sun decides to shine down on your smiling face.

And as you head into the doorway of your destination, you hear a manly voice from behind:

"Hello, gorgeous. Come to Papa."

And you turn around to see a homeless man, unaware of your presence, stuffing his face with a very large burrito.

I'm still smiling.

This entry was posted by Frankie, on 10.13.2007. You can leave your response.