I get why men stare at women, mommy explained that to me at the tender age of 10, but what the hell is up with the women who stare at women?
I’m referring to the type of women you see when you’re out and about, at the mall or a restaurant who make it their mission to take-in every detail about you. They fixate like a teething puppy on a pair of stilettos. The entire purpose of their being will be to examine you. Like crackheads they become consumed with you. Their bulging eyes pop out of their heads and their necks twist as they size you up s-l-o-w-l-y and shamelessly from head to toe. And you know that somewhere in their sick heads; some little ticker is archiving everything.
I was doing some grocery shopping the other day placing my items on the cashier’s counter when I felt two pairs of scrutinizing eyes burning holes through me. Behind me stood two relatively young women. One was top heavy wearing a sheer crimson top that did no justice to her already sagging rack and the other was a what’s considered a big woman with a difficult-to-miss hairy mole on her right cheek. They both looked like life may not have been too kind on them and had this bitter confrontational look on their faces. The kinda look that spelled trouble.
I quickly gazed in their direction, giving them one of those “I know you’re staring so stop” kinda looks but they didn’t budge. Instead they held the stare right back at me until we were all interrupted by the cashier who noticed that I had forgotten to get one of my veggies priced. Seconds later, I felt their vicious eyes on me once again but this time they were accompanied with not-so-discreet whispers and giggles. At that moment, one of them pressed my then empty cart on my hips and rudely said “can you move this” as she tried to make way for her cart.
The cashier was now aware of the situation. It was like watching a scene from the National Geographic. A duel created to simply establish the peck order. The grocery store had suddenly become the jungle. I could either concede or stand my ground.
Let me tell you they messed with the wrong species that day.
“My cart will stay here” I hissed as I firmly gripped the cart with my claws and pushed back “and I will move it only when I’M done”
It was obvious my reaction took them by surprise. They tried to save face by acting unthreatened by my show of force. Suddenly, they looked much smaller in size and less intimidating so I decided to take go all the way, teach dem bitches a lesson they’ll never forget.
“By the way, they sell mirrors downstairs you should really look at one before leaving the house next time.”
I waited for their next move but nothing. Checkmate. And just like that I made my glorious exit, leaving them with their jaws hanging in the air.
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