Confession

Lacking any sort of vehicle of my own, I tend to do a lot of walking throughout the city during the weekdays. On the weekends Boyfriend carts my ass around, but coming to and from the metro station I’m usually on foot. As you can imagine, and as I have dictated on this website very obscenely, I encounter countless (encounter countless?) weirdos during any given day. Because of this fact, I have taken to pretending to talk to someone on my cell phone any time I pass a semi-sketchy, sketchy, homeless looking and/or hobo-resembling person on the street. As if to say “Hey, there is someone on the other end of this line that knows where I am. If I were to suddenly go missing this person would know where I was at my last living moment. Don’t fuck with me.” This method actually works quite well. Not that I’m saying it’s ever saved me from a kidnapping, because that I do not know. It’s certainly possible, although I do think I have a somewhat irrational fear of being kidnapped, or raped and thrown into a gutter somewhere, but I will say that my phone method, however fake and poorly acted out it may be, has prevented a few scraggly looking mofos from opening their crusty little mouths to talk to me.

Tags: cell phone, city by foot, dont fuck with me, los angeles homeless mofos, metro red line