
I had been talking to a boy for 5 minutes when he suddenly poked my chest (which was at his eye-level) and asked, "What are your boobs made out of?"
I thought it was unusual that a complete stranger had just felt me up, and I looked at him, confused. "They're just...my boobs," I said, not understanding.
It took a moment to sink in.
I took off my wig and vowed not to wear the platform shoes for another 365 days.

(Also pictured: Penelope, who dances like this in front of complete strangers.)
No comments:
Post a Comment