Dear beautiful Pearl girl—It was just you and I waiting at the streetcar stop. I kindly asked you for the time. You furrowed your brow, lifted your upper lip, and turned your back to me without answering. As a fat dude, I'm used to every female assuming that all I want to do is rape them. I'll just curl up in the corner and be as un-creepy as possible. You lit your cigarette under the shelter, so I casually walked to the end of the platform, as cig smoke irritates my lungs—at which point I heard what I can only describe as a condescending giggle mixed with a dramatic sigh. Then, as we boarded, we both see one single seat. As I make my way toward it, I hear your heels pacing quickly behind me trying to beat me to it, but you weren't quick enough. As I took my comfy seat, you gave me this look like I'm the worst human to ever live. Sorry—99.9 percent of the time, I offer my seat to women, the elderly, etc. But don't expect chivalry after treating me like I'm less than human. PS: Though I don't look it, I have an eye for designer fashion, as that's my industry. Nice fake LV bag. Really suits you.—Anonymous
The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.