Freakchylde's

Ok, this little kitty is seriously traumatized. Yesterday, after a decent day in a hot, sweaty, non-air conditioned store, a elder woman walks up to my counter, a few hours before closing, looks at me, and asks, “So, do you have your nipples pierced?” I sat stunned for a few minutes, not grasping the fact that someone my gram’s age just asked me this question. Looked at her, with that wonderful, “did you just ask me that” look and said, “no.” Her response, “Do you have any covered up?” Mine, “No.” Her, “Do you have your tongue pierced?” Me, “Yes.” Her, “Your belly button?” Me, “No.” Her, “Why did you stop there?” Me, “Because needles aren’t supposed to go in some places.” Her, “So what’s your statement?” Me, “I don’t have a statement. My dad thinks I do, but he won’t listen to me when I say I don’t.” Her, “Everyone has a statement they make with what they put on their body.” Me, “I don’t.” Her, “Yes you do.” Me, “Ok, it’s all about me, that’s it. Does that make you happy?” Her, “See, you do have a statement, and I can see that it’s all about you. You have them where people can see them.” Me, “Have a nice day Ma’am.”

I was doing fine until I looked at the Work Twins. Then I lost it and burst out laughing for 20 minutes and couldn’t stop. I don’t know if I was laughing because it was extremely uncomfortable, or laughing because it was damned annoying and it was the only response I could summon. But I’ve decided I will not be as polite the next time she comes in and asks that. Where I’m pierced is nobody’s business but my own, and those who are allowed to see them (to make sure they don’t pull them out on accident).

*sigh* It also makes me wonder. Yesterday was lesbian day at the store, not that I really care about someone’s sexual orientation. But it calls me to question why I always get hit on by women, and not men. I seem to scare men, and women seem to think that I’m batting for their team. Maybe I need to dress in ruffles.