Friday, January 13, 2012

Why, Yes! I Do Believe I Have a Dollar to Spare.

Similar to how nerds prefer asian chicks or how Playboy bunnies like "entrepreneurs," there is a certain demographic that finds Julia Rehders especially attractive: homeless men.

Drifters, hobos, Occupy Wall Street protestors, whatever you want to call them, the homeless feel something special for me...something tender, something extra. And I don't want to brag, but whenever I am walking in a big* city, the streets are veritably lined with potential suitors who have come to court me:
  • "Ooooh, honey, yo hair so prittay!!" *toothless lip licking*
  • *swig from liquor bottle* "When God was blessin ya, baby grrrl, He did NOT know when tah STAHP!"
  • "You can be mah woman if dat's how you wanna be rollin!" *unsteady pelvic thrust*
  • "Hey sexy! I'd like to *** *** *** and then *** ***! *** *** *** Big Mac and fries!" (adding the expletives back in would not help these sentences make any more sense)
I know many a woman who might be disgusted or disturbed by these comments. She feels violated when a homeless admirer attempts to gently touch her hair, or when he affectionately tosses one of his shoes at her butt. She avoids those men at all costs.

That kind of woman is a snob.

You had better believe I appreciate the advances I receive, no matter who the advancer is; whether homeless man, gas station attendant, local politician, dog walker, dog, dogfish, whomever. I treasure each wooful encounter. And why shouldn't I? These men may be homeless/disturbed/lonely/narcissists/dogs/fish, but they are not blind (well, most of them), so I go ahead a work it when I walk up and down those city streets. Being fabulous for the homeless is not about me, it's about giving back to the community.

* Unfortunately, I do not actually live in a big city. I live in Orem, UT, which is a town too small and too snowy to sustain a healthy amount of homeless men. And here, the last time someone hit on me, it was the teenage cart pusher outside of a grocery store. Not even like the manager or anything. And it wasn't just me running in to grab something while in my gym clothes. I had spent hours getting ready for a party, so I was dressed up and had basically done anything there was to do with my outsides. AND it was dark outside. AND he must've been pretty bored because all of the carts were already inside. Not to mention that I later found out the back of my dress was tucked in to my tights, so I'm pretty sure that was the main draw. However, I am determined to remain optimistic about my situation here in Orem. And a teenage cart pusher is better than nothin.


  1. oh I just died laughing Julia!! SO SO funny!! :)

  2. Hope you're not creeped by readers you don't know, but I had to comment, for I too have a varied and confusing "demographic" that I attract. Namely tween boys (I was dubbed "smokin'" by my hubby's younger brothers before we were wed), the elderly (men and women), and Latino men. Strange. Anyway, enjoyed your post.