The homeless LOVE me!

Doing my thrice-weekly walk home from work yesterday, I came across some shady characters on 8th avenue and 38th street. I won't say I looked especially cute or whorish yesterday but what transpired is rather entertaining.

Cut to: Kath walking down street (the soundtrack in her mind: "superstitious" by Stevie Wonder)

Cut to Homeless Man with Homeless Friends on street corner:

"You not gonna talk to me today, pretty?"

Kath keeps walking.

"You not gonna talk, aw shit . . . cuz you talked to me last night!"

I haven't had a drunken blackout in a few weeks. I've been falling asleep, alone, in an Ambien-induced haze and waking up in sweaty t-shirts and shorts for some time now. So the thought of me having any sort of sexual shenanigans is laughable, even the moreso with the homeless. (Sidebar: I kinda like waking up sweaty. Makes me feel like I did something productive in my sleep. Maybe I worked out. Or wrote some sort of treatise about humanity. Or slayed a dragon, perhaps.)

Then, this morning, I stumbled off the train and upstairs to 16th street. In front of me walked slowly a woman with a shockingly large ass in exceptionally tight jeans. Someone, somewhere, wants to tap that, I thought to myself.

A moment later, I hear:

"Hey gorgeous. You gonna talk to me, sexy? Cuz I'd like to talk to you."

A guy coming from the opposite direction has walked by said girl and turned around to gaze longingly at her tightjean-clad ass. She ignores him.

Ah, there's Someone for everyone.

And my Someone is homeless.

I wish it was Carlos Bernard from "24." (see link, click on title of entry.)
It's retarded how hot that man is.
I'd like to sop him up with a biscuit.