Why NOT downtown?

After spinning I went to the UPS store in downtown LA to mail Mason's birthday gift. I parked easily as downtown LA is a ghost town after 5:00 p.m. As I was getting out of my car, I noticed a Macy's I'd never been to so I decided to return the shoes I ordered online, which were a horrible miscalculation.

I grabbed my Macy's box and my gigantic Toy's R Us bag and walked down 9th Street.
After mailing the gift, I went to find the entrance to Macy's. It's a tricky entrance so I wandered around looking for how to get in, feeling like a loser because such a simple thing was tough to figure out.

Finally success, I returned the shoes without incident and headed back to the car. As I walked down the city streets, surrounded by skyscrapers and honking cabs in the evening light, I romanticized living downtown. I felt like I was in San Francisco again and wondered if MJC would want to live in a loft in this area.

And suddenly my lovely little image of living downtown was shattered when a man on a skateboard, digging through the trash, looked up as I walked by to say hello. I smiled and walked briskly past him. "Daaaang, darlin' ", he called after me. He boarded his skateboard, I could hear the little plastic wheels zipping along behind me. Shit. Shit. Shit. - Where are those honking cabs now? There seemed to be no one on the street except me and Dang Darlin.

He called after me again and then met me at my side and rolled along next to me as I tried to speed walk past. "Alright. Alright," he said. "I just want to tell you something tonight, before I pass by Darlin'." I did not respond and tried my best to perfect dead eyes, staring straight forward as I continued down the street. "Has anyone ever told you, you have got...your body has got some crazy...you know, unusual proportions?"

"Thanks," I said curtly without a note of thanks in my tone.

He continued, "You know, it's unusual for someone as trim and toned as you are to have a...well you know...a bootie."

Dear, God. Why did this man feel like I might appreciate his analysis of my form? And why, please tell me, do various strangers, acquaintances, and short-term boyfriends feel it appropriate or complimentary to tell me I have a black girl's ass. Always?

And as I said before, suddenly I remember why I do NOT want to live downtown. That little small 15 minute fantasy felll to pieces right there on the concrete on Hope Street.