Never ever talk to people on Hollywood Boulevard...
…which is a lesson I learned the hard way yesterday. I know, I know, I should KNOW BETTER, as I’ve lived here for over a year and have had exposure to the crazies. But my naivete was peeking out again and I got sucked into a weird experience.
So, I was taking my usual walk along the boulevard, as I do every day for exercise and enjoyment. Sometimes people, mostly dudes, try to talk to me or cat-call me. I usually ignore them or remain evasive and scurry quickly away. Walking regularly for many months now has given me pretty good stamina, to the point that people always comment on how fast I walk, even my friends.
So I’m wearing my headphones (to better ignore the creeps, but it doesn’t really deter them) when I get a tap on my arm. I whip around to see this guy who says he practically ran to catch up with me for about a block. I was kinda like, okayyy….But he seemed nice and we started to chat, as I really, honestly didn’t think there was anything weird about him at the time. I figured I could maybe make a new friend. And if he annoyed me eventually, add him on facebook and never talk to him again or ignore his calls or make Josh answer the phone with hilarious results, causing him to never call again.
Well it didn’t quite work out that way, as the guy was wise to my getaway plan, which I would later find out. We kept walking and he asked me about myself and later I realized he wasn’t really paying attention or was indeed drunk (I kind of started to notice a vague beer scent coming from him later), because he asked me REPEATEDLY what I did for a living and what kind of art I make. I even called him out on it, asking him if he was even listening to me. I can’t remember when I started getting annoyed, but I did and I wasn’t sure how to shake this dude, even though I kept telling him I had to get home to go out to dinner with my friends.
At one point, he almost got into a fight with a crazy homeless person because the guy was LOOKING at him. I was like, wtf and just tried to keep walking. Then we thought the man was following us, which freaked me out. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong side of the boulevard to escape into any of the shops where people know me. This guy proudly proclaimed that trouble folllowed him and then proceeded to try and talk to other crazy homeless people, including yelling along with this nutso woman. I told him agitating them was a bad idea but he kept acting like I was being uptight and not experiencing life like an artist should. He asked what’s the worst that could happen when talking to these people. I recalled seeing a homeless insane woman attack a man in a wheelchair and he countered that there must have been some beauty to that, as there is beauty in everything (SO CLICHE LOL)! Um, she got maced in the face for that shit.
He also happened to mention being in the military and going to Iraq to a homeless guy. After that, he thought I was offended by this for some reason and accused me of judging him. I was judging his weird and confrontational behavior, not his military history! He got rather defensive whenever I said certain things, like calling him weird. He said that was certainly something for a girl from Ohio to say…I said weird isn’t a bad thing, though HIS weirdness was bad and irritating.
Later, he brought up Shakespeare and said I was being snobby for saying Romeo and Juliet is a sad story. I was pretty dumbfounded by this, because if it’s not tragic, then what is it? He seemed to think I was being dismissive of a literary great because I didn’t express my love for the playwright or something. I said I like some of his plays, but that didn’t satisfy this wacko. Regarding Romeo and Juliet and my nay-saying opinion, he asked me where my sense of romance was and asked rather rhetorically, “Whatever happened to Audrey Hepburn?” Thinking I was being funny, I said, “She died.” He didn’t get it and basically acted like I was being a jerk or something as he was apparently trying to romance me…FAIL. I’m not a princess, dumbass. Don’t care about your faux-bromance shit.
At that point, we were near my apartment and I really did not want him to see where I lived. I tried getting him to leave by saying we could be facebook friends and even offered him my number, which he had initially asked for. He got even weirder and kept acting like a sulking child, like he was oh-so-put out by this. He said he walked me all the way here from Sunset…as though I OWED him something. LOLOLOLOLOL no fuckface. Ya got dat shit wrong, bro.
The guy, who’s name I forgot almost immediately, said he’d rather walk me home and then never see me again. I didn’t want him to and then he went on some schpiel about how I needed to not rely on social media sites and instead connect with people in person. And to not be so reserved and to experience life and then maybe one day I’d become “A REAL ARTIST.” HAHAHA FUCK YOU, you don’t know me, and you weren’t even listening when I tried telling you about my art, is what I SHOULD HAVE SAID. But I didn’t want to further upset this mentally-imbalanced individual, so I let him pout about us never seeing each other again (that would be too soon) and shuffle away so I could run back home, looking over my shoulder to ascertain that he wasn’t pursuing me.
TL;DR version: NEVER EVER TALK TO PEOPLE ON HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD.
So no one probably cares about my life here, except the friends I know, but I felt like venting and sharing a couple weird and amusing stories. Today is weird story day, so you’re gonna get another text post in a minute here…tl:dr version at the end, for those with ADD/ADHD.
I’ve recently been more active on flickr, deciding to do the one photo a day challenge, which consists of one self-portrait and one random photo. I happened to photograph me wearing my rare, silver Reebok Freestyle high top sneakers. The photo was blurry, as it was taken looking down as I walked. SOMEHOW, one of these shoe perverts figured out what type of shoes they were. And it all progressed along from there!
I wear the shoes frequently, so I ended up posting more photos of them. And when I got a request to show some pics of the shoes, I found it to be completely innocuous! I really hadn’t realized the people favoriting my shoe pics were a bunch of perverts! I just thought, ‘Oh, people who love shoes and fashion, just like me!’ rather naively. Then I started visiting their pages and found hundreds of photos of Reebok Freestyles and women wearing them (some of these covertly taken in public, unknown to the woman), some of which were rather pornographic photos, much to my chagrin. One guy even private messaged me, asking if my love of shoes was in any way “sexual.” -_-; I told him no.
What I find so amusing about these people is not only do they view shoes in a sexual way, but that most are SPECIFICALLY OBSESSED with one exact style of shoes. And that exact style, the retro Reebok Freestyle, is actually kind of ugly and frumpy, in my opinion. The only thing that was the saving grace for that type of shoe was the revamp of them, which created vibrant colors and patterns that are more appealing than the standard white and black. But no, these freaks love the plain white or black ones, too! Additionally, the more BEAT UP the shoes are, the BETTER! Most of these people really love them to be super worn in, complete with dirt stains and even rips and holes. I have seen videos on flickr and youtube and photos of people ripping up and cutting up these shoes, along with other styles of sneakers. I’ve watched some of them out of a pure psychological and sociological fascination. I JUST DON’T GET IT.
In one purely and utterly bizarre video, which I’m not even sure how it didn’t get flagged, a woman in an orange prison jumpsuit, with her pants pulled down, drank water from a Reebok shoe with her hands cuffed! WHY?!?! That was on one particular person’s page, who was obsessed with the shoes and women in prison uniforms. They had tons of news photos of female criminals being led away…completely disturbing…
So anyway, this one British chav woman (supposedly a woman), who had pics of the shoes and various women wearing them, some spreading their hairy beavers open (MY EYES BURNED FOR DAYS), messaged me. She saw that I offered to do art commissions and wondered what kind. Well, really, she just wanted to ask if she could buy my shoes after I completely wore them out and was about to toss them in the trash. I informed her that I take good care of my things and it would likely be years before any of my shoes were that destroyed. She offered me over double what I paid for the shoes, which was originally $70, and said she’d wait even TEN YEARS to get them from me! She also offered to buy me a flickr pro account if I gave her dibs on the shoes, because my photo limit was coming up and I complained about it on one of my fashion/shoe photos. I haven’t messaged her back about that yet because I don’t know what to do, as I’d certainly like a pro account, haha.
Coincidentally, at the same time, another supposed British woman messaged me about buying my shoes. However, she said she didn’t have a fetish, but just wanted to wear them because she collects that style. She wants them while they’re still in nice condition, not threadbare. She offered me twice what I paid for them, as she couldn’t find them anywhere in stores or online in her size. I said if I ever wanted to sell them while they’re still nice-looking, I’d let her know. But I’m not really keen on parting with them right now, as they are my favorites and I wear them all the time.
Although, such sums of money would be helpful, as I am currently gainfully unemployed :/ and it would probably go towards buying a bass guitar…
So yeah, that was long-winded, but I just felt like sharing that. I’ll be posting another story in a couple minutes, for those who are bored enough to read about the trials and tribulations (tribble-ations, LOLZ) of Angela.
TL;DR version: Some shoe fetishists on flickr wanna buy my Reeboks and are kind of in a bidding war over them. Not sure I wanna sell them, though. CONFUSION.