Beat them at their game

Tracy Morgan’s hobo doppelgänger got on my bus today and his eyelashes were the most picturesque, delicately curled examples of perfection that would have made a doll jealous. Then, before I could grab ahold of her the little Double Standard Devil inside of me said to him “Excuse me sir, has anyone ever told you that your eye lashes are PERFECTION?”

He giggled and bowed his head in mock embarrassment as my brain exploded with flashbacks reminding me of all the times someone’s said weird shit to me.

But before I could start to give a fuck that at least 27 people on the bus heard me being a creepy weirdo the Double Standard Devil inside my head whispered to me “Fuck it, it’s Friday and your hair looks FANTASTIC. That’s gotta count for something.”

And so when he smiled at me on his way out and said “You know, you’re really beautiful too.” I almost wasn’t disgusted with myself for letting him think I was hitting on him.

So I guess if I can’t beat the creepers with a metal bat, then I’ll just have to beat them at their game.

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