"Rollin with my muthafuckin strap on the side of me… don’t fuck with the East-Bay G."
Sep 9, 2011 @ 11:30 pm
The Subway 6” Super Confident Combo
So I woke up feeling good today. Myself. Confident. I said, you know what, I deserve a treat - I’m buying myself a Subway 6” Veggie Combo for lunch.
I listened to Petty with the windows down and smiled at the oncoming, oppressive heat. I held my head high when I sauntered into the Subway on Central in the midst of the business lunch rush, clutching $5.47 in change to pay for my combo. Yeah, I’m covered with cat hair and obviously not working, but I don’t give a fuck.
When I opened the door, it was like Klymaxx’s Men All Pause. But it wasn’t just the men looking, the women were too. They could sense my self-assurance, my confidence that everything in my life was gonna turn out alright afterall.
My sandwich artist rushed me through the line a bit abruptly and awkwardly, and I forgot to get pickles. But that was OK, cause I knew it was gonna taste good no matter what. Today was a good day. And that meant my sandwich would be delicious.
At the register, I got a funny look from the cashier, but I knew she was just hatin on my sense of style, wishing she was rocking my denim cut-offs. I can wear them rolled up. I can wear them down. They’re versatile. I couldn’t really blame her…
I drove home feeling more alive than I have in awhile. I walked into the house, pretty content with my decision to go no-AC for as long as I can. Be a real desert dweller. Myself. And a beautiful human being.
Then I went to the bathroom. And when I looked down, I understood that the reactions I received at the Subway weren’t in response to me being an ultra-confident woman. It was because my fly was down. Really down. And open.
Oh well… confidence is overrated anyways.
But vodka isn’t.
