That Guy Just Whistled At Me
That guy just whistled at me.
What guy?
That guy.
I stare at my friend, incredulous.
Why would he whistle at her?
I am the cute one.
So I drag her back there.
HEY!
The six workers pretend not to notice us.
HEY! YOU! THE FAT ONE!
They all glare at me.
“She’s talking to you,” one says to another.
They are all about the same level of fat.
They begin a huge argument about it.
I shrug.
Understanding better now.
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