March 17, 2013

Kooky, Cookie, Kuki

Friday was a bad day and I'd like to forget about it. Saturday was a great day and today has been cute. If you want to read about my bad Friday, I put it at the very bottom of this post under the read more part. Saturday morning was great because I went to an improv and storytelling workshop in a hotel with a lady from work. I loved it. Can I be a professional improviser when I grow up? Seriously.

This morning we went to Kuki, a little bakery run by a sweet Mexican lady. I felt like I was in her house and not a bakery. It was very simple compared to all the places we have in the US. There were no giant sugar cookies or donuts covered in bacon, but that's okay. It's the only place in town where you can get cupcakes, brownies, and chocolate chip cookies. I really like that Kuki serves Nespresso so George Clooney can eat brownies with you. David was sitting next to me and even he was thinking of George Clooney.
I ate a delicious brownie and chocolate chip cookie with a Nespresso.
Kuki, kuki, kuki, kuki!
David's red velvet cupcake and carrot cake.

A cute car.
David and Tippy on Saturday morning.


 I work in the part of town where the street beggars with distorted legs live, the sort of seedy part of town. There are always so many people outside and I always feel really safe, but last week a creepy man had to be all awful and make me feel uncomfortable and worst of all he's the reason I had to buy pads instead of tampons. About a week ago this creepy 45-year-old man approached me in the street. He asked for directions and my phone number. I told him no and went into a grocery store. I noticed that he waited outside of the store and it made me feel weird so I purposely stayed in the store longer to avoid him.

 On Friday morning when I was getting off the bus to go to work I felt like someone was staring at me and turned around and saw that same man and thought how gross it was to see him again staring at me. Then after work while waiting in line for the ATM that same man started walking towards me. I went into the bank so I wouldn't have to talk to him. He aggressively waited outside and even peeked through the window. I got on the phone with David so I didn't have to talk to the man. While I was leaving the bank he came into the bank and brushed up against my arm. Once I got out of the bank I started walking really fast through the pedestrian street and he quickly followed. As I walked he followed me so closely, I could see his reflection in all the store windows. I couldn't believe it. If I wasn’t on the phone, I think I would have said, “Go away, stop following me!” I think I was too scared. I thought of all the awful things he would do to me if he somehow managed to take me away and when I saw a grocery store I walked in and he followed. 

I walked around for a minute and when he wasn’t looking I ran out of the grocery store and into the very back of a clothing store next door and hid for 15 minutes. I was ready to tell someone, “Ayudame, there’s a crazy man outside following me!” And I think I eventually would have said something to someone if the man came into store or was waiting in front, but I never saw him. I ended up calling a lady I work with and she picked me up in a car and I came home and cried. If there was a time to tell someone, it should have been in the bank, even if it would have been in broken Spanish. I handled the situation all wrong and wish I had looked the man in the eye and yelled at him to go away. I should have hit him with my umbrella, instead of being the silent victim. 

From now on I am going to take a different route and get off the bus at a different stop and since I can't find Mace here I'm going to carry a knife. What creeps me out is that I feel like he knows my schedule. Thankfully, my work is nowhere near my home so I'm positive if he had been watching me  he just knows the area I walk from my bus stop to my school. There's just one path I regularly walk in that area and then the rest of the way home I always go a million different ways and I only work 3 days a week, but still it's so creepy. I wonder what I'm doing wrong? I'm really good at walking alone. I wear a black coat and keep a straight face. How can I be invisible? Will someone send me an OWL with an invisibility cloak...Sirius Black? Severus? Oh and the reason I had to buy pads instead of tampons is because that creepy man messed up my big plans to get them on Friday and on Saturday I forgot to get them and then Sunday came as did my period and on Sunday everything is closed, except for a few little convenience stores that only had pads. And that's how I ended up with pads. 

6 comments:

  1. Pads are almost as icky as creepy stalking men. I often wish I could be more courageous and stand up for myself, but in the moment it is hard not to be timid! I'm sorry you had that experience, and glad you had a sweet coworker pick you up and a cute cat to cuddle with after.

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    1. Pads are the worst! Thanks for your sweet comment! If I see that man this week, I'm going to be brave and yell at him to go away.

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  2. Bless that kooki/cookie lady, and bless you.

    I am sorry you had to deal with that unpleasant-in-the-worst-way Friday. I would have cried too. I am so glad you're safe.

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    1. Bless you Rachel! Your comment makes me feel much better and less alone.

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  3. I hate creeps, despise pads, and <3 you.

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“You look ridiculous if you dance You look ridiculous if you don't dance So you might as well dance.” ― Gertrude Stein

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