What I Look Like




I put on a top that pretends to be loose-fitting but is really just tight enough to show my nipples without looking like I'm trying to show my nipples--not that I have enormous nipples, in fact, I think I have undersized nipples, but anything will work. Then I put on shorts that aren't too short or too tight, but short enough to show how long and tan my legs are, and tight enough to creep up the bottom part of my butt crack to give that full, rounded look. Black army boots make me look daring, and big hoop earrings make me look girly. A little mascara, a little eye liner, and lots of lipstick--a maroon liner, a pale color on the inside edges of my lips and a deep red to color in the area in between the maroon and the pale. This effect makes my lips look full and pouty giving the impression that I'd be emotional and sexy at the same time: a screamer in bed.

I think I look hot. But I don't ask Andy because of course he'll say, "Yeah, you look good," because that's his job. I don't ask a friend because when friends say you look good, they only mean relative to how you normally look.

I walk to the bus stop, and I take the bus for about a mile, and I count how many whistles and hellos I get, and then I walk back home, and I count how many cars honk their horns.

Then some guy says, "Hey baby," when I walk by, so I turn around and say, "Why are you talking to me? I don't even know you."

And he says, "Oh. Sorry."

"And," I say, "Don't call me baby."




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