Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

I'M NOT PREGNANT, I'M FAT ...


It was one of those days you wished you could blow off school and head out to the beach. A group of friends and I were standing on the steps of the Clinton Building enjoying our conversation and the occasional cool breeze. Not too far from us stood another group of girls. One of the girls walked over to me and complemented me on one of my tattoos and her and her friends joined our conversation. Shortly afterwards we were joined by this nice Asian kid with the greatest Brooklyn accent known to man. The Asian kid started telling us a funny story about a homeless guy that was sitting on the steps nearby. While striking up a conversation with the kid the homeless guy had attempted to snatch the cigarette the kid was smoking out of his hand. He kind of scared the kid which in turn made the kid scurry on to where we were. I guess he thought we’d protect him. What a wuss.

I guess we attracted the homeless guy’s attention and he walked over to us trying to join in our conversation. There were two things I immediately noticed about him:
1) He was drunk
2) He had just been released from a nearby hospital judging from the patient ID bracelet on his wrist.

He also seemed to be mentally ill. I have a soft spot in my heart for the mentally ill, and the homeless. It wounds my heart that in a city of millions these people are so alone. People walk by them ignoring them as if they were contagious. People tend to forget that all of God’s children crave human contact.

Several times he addressed a couple of the girls and the guy only to be ignored. Finally he looked in my direction. I made eye contact with him. He asked about my tattoo and where I had gotten it. I answered his questions and included him in our conversation and pretty soon everyone else was talking him as well. The conversation was going well. He proved to be knowledgeable on a lot of thing he told the Asian kid,"never judge a book by its cover. I actually went to Harvard."

Just then a couple of girls joined us and one of them sat on the stairs. We were now a pretty large group attracting the attention of the campus police who every now and then glanced over to where we were. cue party music. Maybe he was expecting us to stage a sit in or something. But then again it’s always like that in the city anytime a group of minority kids gather, the popo becomes extra vigilant. After all you never know when we’re going to run amok.

The home less man looked at one of the girls that had just joined us, the one rubbing her tummy and asked her,"How many months are you? When is the baby due?" Needle scratches on record. Music comes to a halt. All heads turned towards the girl. The girl got up, all indignant and screeched,"WHAT?!!" In all fairness she did have a little bit of a tummy bulge. Maybe she should’ve been wearing one of those, “I’m not pregnant, I’m fat” buttons.

"It’s okay this is the 21st century there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It could happen to anyone.",the homeless guy added. She rolled her eyes at him and stomped off angrily only to return several minutes later with the campus popo in tow. The cop then asked the home less guy to leave campus. I felt sorry for the guy but understood security was just doing their job. I guess the homeless guy learned a valuable lesson whenever you meet a chunky female just ixnay on the pregnantay questions.

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