So, I went to Cali this past weekend-- landed in Sac-town, made my way to Berkeley and eventually San Fran. I ate my $.79/pound cherries (I know right), went to Alcatraz, walked up hills that seemed to last forever, discovered where "hella" originated and ate food like I was a poster-child for America's obesity epidemic. But there was one thing that stood out above all, that you can't get on a tour (well maybe you could, but that's not the point)-- I got hit on by an ASIAN boy.
STOP THE MOTHER F'IN PRESSES!
"An Asian you say Erica?" Yes, my foaming with anticipation friends, an ASIAN. Let me back this up, I was not just hit on by ONE Asian, but there were A FEW looking my way.
My first reaction was to check and see if my dress was tucked into my panties or maybe I had a "kick me" sign on my back. Nope, nothing. They were just looking at me. Erica with the "birthin-hips" and the hair that can't get big enough. Erica with the bright orange fingernails and turquoise rings. Erica with the ridiculous amount of bangles. They were looking at me! Erica, never-gets-hit-on-by-Asians, Erica!
Not interested, but noteworthy just the same.
Point is, Erica still got it.
2 comments:
I told you boo! They ALLLL love us brownies here. Unlike Mpls, I I wanna eat at all THEIR restaurants. Only in Cali baby.
Mare, I thought the pic she posted for it was YOU!
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