They Made Faces

April 29, 2003

On my way back from lunch today I was sitting at a light, windows down, sunroof open, looking totally sexy and windswept, with Kelly Clarkso–er, something really cool playing on the stereo, when I heard this weird noise outside the car.



I finally realize that the people in the car next to me are tapping on the window, presumably to get my attention about something. But I’m like why would they possibly need to be tapping on the window to get my attention? So I ignore it.

But it continues.


And I figure well, maybe it’s someone I know, or there’s a bomb on my car. So I orchestrate a carefully nonchalant toss of my hair in which I will be able to glance sideways and see who it is. And I see them.

The two ugliest young men in L’burg.

The driver has a giant shiteating grin on his face and is waving spastically all HEY, baby. The other? Has his face pressed against the window glass and is making horrible faces. Like he’s ten. Not to mention the fact that he was also heinously ugly before he started making the faces.

So I make a bitchy eyebrows-raised face like whatever, Becky and turn back to face the front.

But I can feel them beside me, watching me. Staring at me.

Let me tell you, people, there is nothing more excruciating than sitting at a long red light with two random ugly dudes making faces at you and generally staring at your every move from the car beside you.

It was awful. I’m about to trauma-block it, in fact, so I had to get it down on record before it disappeared forever.

Why couldn’t it have been a hot guy? Why couldn’t I have heard the taptaptap and done the carefully nonchalant hair toss to find an adorable, intelligent, single, het model type waving shyly at me?


And when the light finally turned green, I totally peeled out to try to get away – but they peeled faster, and as they passed me, they did the same thing again.

Shiteating grin and wave, monkey faces against the glass.

I am scarred.

Filed under: old diaryland entries

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