metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Come on it's easy money I really hate it when I'm telling the truth and people think I'm lying. I really love it when I am lying and people think I am telling the truth. I know I wanted to kind of go with that thought, but the thought is all I remember. The fleshing out, the pertinent examples all have gone beyond the beyond... In the news (really) there is a guy around here that is hanging out at the library and asking girls/women to show their breasts or lift their skirt so he can take a picture. He is saying he will give them $100. One girl said that when she refused to go for it, he said, "Come on. It's an easy $100." Sure, easy money. What if they did it and then he didn't pay up? What if the girl who reported it did it and then he didn't pay up and that's why she is reporting him! Slut! heh Of course there is no telling how many girls/women went for it and are now happily spending their "free" and "easy" money. Oh yeah. He is also exposing himself. He is not paying for that. Maybe he is showing them how easy it would be, like, "See. Just like this. Just raise up your skirt and click I take the picture and see, easy!" Or maybe he is just some wretched pervert. Speaking of wretched perverts, I used to work in downtown LA. I had a lowly position and had to pay to park. I found a cheap parking garage a couple of blocks away. Cheap Parking!!! My space was on the second floor of the garage and I had to walk down the stairs to get to the street level. The stairs were SO VERY RANK and guess why. Because Larry was living in the stairwell. Larry was a wino in the classic sense of the word. His hair was dirty, sticky and matted, his eyeballs were brownish (the white part not the iris), his clothes were stiff with filth and usually wet around the groin area. I think he peed on the third floor landing (When he didn't just pee on himself) but it ran down the stairs to the other floors to rest in a shiny, stinking pool on the bottom floor. But - hey - it was cheap parking!! Larry would greet me every morning and I would say good morning to him. This must have been significant to him because I don't think anyone else bothered to speak to him. Anyway, one winter day it was pretty cold. OK, not cold by, say, Minnesota standards but it was in the upper 30's at night. In LA that's cold! Anyway, it's cold to be sleeping in a stairwell. I felt sorry for my "friend" Larry and brought him a blanket. I guess this cemented our relationship in his eyes because he began walking me to the door of my high rise office building. hehe He said he walked me to the building to "protect" me from the riffraff - the bad people in the street. He cared. Awwww No matter that he looked like someone I should be protected FROM! He did not see himself in that light. I wish I could describe the looks on peoples faces when Larry would "drop me off" at the buildings door! Disgust, concern, surprise, confusion and more all mixed up into one facial expression. It kind of looked like Marty Feldman on crank. Kind of. Good old Larry. Making sure I got to work OK with no hassle. Then he started escorting me back to my car, which was kind of - um - yucky and weird. Then, one day when he left me at my car, he looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm gonna GET you." -- OK. So, the next day I parked somewhere else. Goodbye and good luck, Larry. You whacked out wino piece of shit. I never saw him again. Wow. I could be dead right now. Or, maybe he and I could have lived happily ever after in the cheap parking garage stairwell and had little wino kids. Come to think of it, my cheap parking garage was pretty close to the LA library.... I wonder if libraries are a magnet for perverts? I'll have to explore that later. 8:28 a.m. - 2003-10-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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