some love from the streets

I got some today…as I biked along 31st street towards Grand, an older black woman yelled at me “JESUS LOVES YOU!”

And I wondered, why does she think I don’t know that?

The fact that I don’t believe in Jesus is an entirely interior characteristic (except for that one carefully concealed tattoo). So I started thinking about what made me look like someone down and out and in need of some saving! Did she think I was going to the new Planned Parenthood clinic that just opened there? Did she think any white girl on a bike in that neighborhood was looking for some kind of fix? Did she think I was lost…on the physical or metaphysical plane? I know I wasn’t dressed like a hooker, at least not today.

Hmm. It reminded me of a sunny Sunday morning when I was on my way to the farmer’s market, and some cholo straight up offered me pot, crystal, AND a good time. These things make me worry.

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3 responses to “some love from the streets

  1. When I’m offered drugs on the street (I’m afraid any good-looking woman runs the risk of being offered a “good time”), I always take it as a compliment – it means I don’t look like a cop!

  2. Hah! This reminded me of the time I was getting a manicure and the woman asked me if I knew Jesus loved me. I was taken completely off guard and couldn’t think of a snappier comeback than “Yup.” Luckily that did the trick.

  3. Whew, I’d hate to think I looked remotely like a cop! Someone once asked me if I was a social worker after pointing out I was the only white person on the bus down slauson/normandie way! He was quick to apologize though. I suppose I won’t be too sad about the assumption I would really like some meth! Or that I need Jesus in my life!

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