whoopsie…

…indeed.

last night i was walking buggs and usually i’m very careful to take the paths furthest from where the “proselytizing white shirts” live. 

(yes, this is a relatively “new trick”…moving into apartment complexes and spending each and everyday trying to convert the neighbors. i don’t know why there isn’t some kind of rule against it. w***y, told me that the church actually owns the complex. i don’t know for sure!)

okay, here’s the thing, you’re free to believe whatever you want, but please don’t constantly come after me when i’m trying to exercise and enjoy my night with my dog. i neither take kindly to it, nor respond well to it. my dog came from a rescue and is very wary of overly zealous strangers, who pop up willy-nilly and approach aggressively. 

so, last night we went out at about 9:33 pm. it was past the time that i perceive to be “mormon bedtime.” i thought that we were safe. buggs was peeing on a tree and out of nowhere, quite possibly the bushes…white shirt, red tie and white shirt, blue tie appear…quickly and aggressively. 

i tugged on bugg’s leash and told him, “let’s go.” we began retreating  in the opposite direction, but they pursued us and chased after us while we were just trying “to be.” we stopped very suddenly, buggs was pissed, his hackles were up…the men were two feet from us…hands out, trying to shove booklets in my face.

i was choking on the bile of their sickeningly sweet address. i was frustrated by being followed and literally being “hunted” within my own complex. i was disgusted by their lack of common sense, decency, and compassion…for their neighbors and people in general.

after i’ve greeted them, been nice and said, “hello” hundreds of times, and i’ve explained in complete detail why they will never convert me to mormonism (maybe i should say, “moronism.”)…because i’m a lesbian who smokes medical marijuana, and enjoys an occasional drink and coffee. i’m a “salty” character, who uses colorful language. i despise organized religion. to me, any religion that is under 200 years old is a cult. i’ve got no interest in joining a cult, but nice try boys!!

i’ve explained about my dog and they keep coming, buggs hates creeping, male strangers. he took an aggressive/protective posture and let out a long, low growl. i said, “did you not hear that? that mean he’s going to attack you,  if you come any closer. he said, “that’s okay, dog’s love me. i’m not scared.” he came closer and crouched to touch, buggs. i scooped up my dog with both hands, in a quick swift movement.

previously, i had been holding bugg’s leash in my left hand and holding my cargo shorts up with my right hand, as all of my shorts are two sizes too big, since i’ve lost one hundred plus pounds. as i hugged buggs up to my chest, i looked into white shirt, red tie’s eyes and angrily growled, ” get the fuck away from me and stay away from me.” i felt something happen, which i had tried to control.

and, sure enough…i knew that feeling. i stood there and my cargo shorts fell to the ground. standing there in my t-shirt and boxer shorts, i very gingerly stepped out of my cargos, picked them up, looked at the shocked guys, and proudly, and confidently marched back to the apartment in my t-shirt and boxers.

whoopsie…

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