Tales From The Hood
It's bad enough that I have to cross the street to avoid the African man selling knock off handbags who's always trying to holla at me ("You doh know what I feel fuh you sistaaa"). Now I have a different kind of admirer: The Muslim Cornerstore Owner.
I don't know what it is, but I can't enter a cornerstore within a 16-block radius of my house without the owner/dude behind the counter trying to pick me up. The routine is always the same: first I feel their eyes boring into my body as I navigate the tiny aisles; then they'll say something in Arabic to their counterpart behind the deli counter; then when I get to the counter to pay, it's always a wink and a smile, followed by a compliment.
The owner of the cornerstore by the train station started the trend. "You're a beautiful woman," he said, smiling. I smiled back, thanked him and kept it moving. I guess he took my smile as encouragement. The next time I went in: "I've been waiting for you...I want to take you out." I smile politely, pay and leave. The next time, he's even more insistent: "You tell me what you want, baby. Anything you want, I do it. I'll even pay your rent..." I didn't wait to hear the rest. What kinda girl did he think I was anyway? I decided to boycott his store for a few weeks. Oh did I mention he was way into his forties and balding?
The store two blocks North of my house became my second choice. "How much?" I ask, holding up a bottle of Gatorade. "For you? Fifty cents off!" he replied, licking his lips. Wow. A whole fifty cents...maybe I should retire. At least he was young and cute. Then the Arabic started, and I knew it was time to go before the deli dude had time to investigate. The next time I went in, he held my hand and tried to caress it as I was paying for water. I snatched it back, cut my eyes, mumbled a "bloodclawt" under my breath for good measure and left.
The third store wasn't even really a store. It was one of those places where you knew it was a front for drugs, cos it barely had anything in it. But I was desperate. Dude behind the counter was barely 18...but apparently old enough to ask me "How you doin', Ma?" all the while giving me the flirtatious eye and following me up and down the half empty store asking me if I needed help. With what? The four bags of chips on the shelf?? Good grief.
I've decided to take my chances with Store #2 with the young - er, legal - cute one. He's been flirting hard, even coming from behind the counter to help me get my stuff. LOL.
Well, at least I get a fiddy cent discount...
Labels: Predicaments
posted by SimplEnigma @ 7:32 AM
11 comments
11 Comments:
i am chuckling so hard...
where do you live???
Don't go there....your far too pretty for a burkah??
Perhaps a post on who you feel about those...
ok No.1 I personally admire every woman ...because that is a life long sentence y'all have to bear some much more than others.
No.2 To be hounded a lot a whole lot speaks volumes of what you got going for ya... :)
No.3 What the hell you got against forty, yep thats right a 40yr old man. Men tend to age like wine (that is when they take care of there body) older the better the package ...looks, compassion, understanding, etc etc etc.... at least i am sure about myself :D
Yuh see it Bobby? I want one week... just one week with the tables turned: Women have to initiate and hit on and try to pick up men... lets see how they manage when they don't get a single compliment for an entire week!
Tek it as a compliment SE. Dih man dem know an Empress when dem see one!
lmao!!
Wow. You've got some sex appeal there. If you work it a little harder maybe you can can whole dollar off!
SE...you are freakin hilarious.
I have always thought that the Arab owners/workers in the bodegas love black women, especially dark skinned black women. Milk the extra $.50 and while you are it, get a Vitamin Water instead of the Gatorade, they are better.
LOL...CP, weren't you paying attention to the title? I live in tha hood, girl. All our stores are owned by muslims here.
Lemme go look up what a burkah is before I can tell yuh how I feel about them.
Bobby, I'm baffled as to the interest. Yes, I don't have a tree growing in my face, but I have far too little ass to interest the African and the Muslims are just baffling. Nothing wrong with being forty, but the combination of age, balding and creepy leering is a bit much.
Fiyah, quit your whining. I used to hit on men all the time, and I'm none the worse for being rejected - and I got rejected A LOT.
@Leon, the next time I'm having a good breast day, I'll get that dollar off...I promise. LOL.
Hiieee Onika!
@Anonymous, they're both sugar, water and great advertising. LOL.
hey SE its not what on the ass nope it is the driver behind the ass that counts, the sway and the rythm. aaaahhh some how i feel your muzik is hitting all the right notes and keys. I aint bald, stop leering about 15yrs now don't need to, got it like that ... :)
@SE: Really? A lot?! I am requesting a blog detailing one of those episodes...
for a minute there i thought a chinese had stepped in the line! LOL
but its only spam boooooo
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