Booty Call

This morning at about 3 a.m. I was awakened by screaming and pounding outside my kitchen window. As I stumbled across my dark apartment to investigate, I heard my next door neighbor shouting out his window to whoever was causing the ruckus. He used some fucking profane language, which I won't repeat on this blog 'cause I'm not down with that shit.

When I got to my window, I opened it wide and looked down at the parking lot below. A young man was in the process of beating up a No Parking sign. He punched the sign over and over with his bare fist and then stopped suddenly when he saw me.

"I see you up there in your window, bitch. You wanna come down here and do something about it?" he asked.

Of course I thought about going down there. I mean, he was clearly hitting on me. But I wasn't sure if this guy was the type of person I'd enjoy hooking up with. On the one hand, he seemed very masculine. The way he punched the sign over and over with his bare hand was pretty seductive. On the other hand, calling me a bitch is not as affirming as, say, telling me I am very flexible.

I was pretty tired from moving, so I decided to just scare away my potential late night booty call by pretending to call the police. I didn't feel like walking all the way across my apartment in the dark just to retrieve my cell phone, so I picked up the nearest object, an outlet adapter like this one, and pretended to dial it. As soon as I held the outlet adapter up to my ear, the foolish boy cussed me out some more and took off.

I never even got a chance to give him my number.