20 July 2003 ~ Badass boots, and the inconsiderate urinator...

A couple of days ago, I bought myself a new pair of boots. I used to have these sexy Doc Marten boots, which were just simply badass. I have no idea where they went, or whose feet they might be on now, although, happily, they disappeared during a time period which did not involve me living with insane liars, thieves and Bad People. So, it is more than likely that my sexy Doc Martens are not on the feet of a scumbag, or in the window of a Binghamton pawn store...

Anyway, they're gone, and I bought myself anew pair the other day. They may actually be even sexier than the Docs. Regardless, they're a little bit higher, and they make me feel a hundred times more badass.

[It is not ACTUALLY badass to wear combat boots in 95-degree-weather; it's actually more like "dumbass." But just work with me, okay?]

Okay, so I wore the boots yesterday, mentioning, at every opportunity, "I got new boots!" and grinning proudly.

Well, last night, Jake had a project he was working on -- a film project -- downtown. So, as he was working his magic in a downtown alley with some other people, I milled about, trying not to get in the way of the camera.

I leaned up against a shitty old wooden fence.

And all of a sudden, somebody ion the other side of the fence, presumably a male, began urinating through the slats of the fence...

I knocked, politely, on the fence with my hand.

"Whuh-the-hell..." The guy on the other side sounded fucked up. He said something sort of rude; I can't remember exactly what it was.

That was when the sexy bitchboots kicked in. I suddenly became quite badass, and kicked the fence quite hard. The guy on the other side asked if I had a problem, and promised to come around the corner in ten minutes, presumably to beat me, or us, up.

I yelled, "Yo, asshole, you're the one with your pants open; I wouldn't be talking if I were you..."

Well, the guy DID actually come around the corner, but ran away when he saw who we were: Jake, who is 6'2" and quite scary-looking if you're thinking of trying to beat him up...; two other guys who didn't look entirely wimpy themselves (well, okay, one of them did, but it was just because he was wearing a beret); and me, a very small female who'd dared to start shit (y'ever notice that small chicks are scarier than big chicks if they're willing to start shit?) wearing badass boots.

Heh!

~Helena*