Does Hair Have to Grow There?

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Chapter 8: Why did I almost fight a famous boxer?

There were many other memorable experiences during my years as a promoter / street team member. None were more memorable to me than this one.

Some of theevents we were assigned to were weekly events tied to sports. Based on my attendance record and college experiences, I was assigned by myself to handle a club promotion which served as the after party to in town hockey games. It was an easy enough deal, the party was filled with corporate types all simply looking for drinks and to relax after attending the hockey game. Some would consider it boring, but the tips were great and conversation good as well.

One thing you can depend on about these events, is you never know who you might see nor what might happen. This night was especially crowded due to our hockey team being in the playoffs. They won that night, so everyone was in an especially good mood and the drinks were flowing. I was sent to this promotion with plenty of free giveaways, so I was very busy.

I noticed that the crowd was a lot heavier than most days and there were multiple times I would have to charm my way between narrow tables and squeeze through tiny hallways. You may be wondering why this is important enough to mention, but trust me, with a butt as big as mine, maneuvering without knocking over drinks and / or whole tables, and short men was a huge feat. I had plenty of practice so I was pretty good at avoiding accidents.

The night wore on and the drinks were still flowing. As a social butterfly, I made friends all over the place with the patrons and the staff. That night, people were buzzing about some celebrity sightings at the game. They were too happy to fill me in with all the details.

One more hour and my shift would be over. I was halfway finished passing out my promotional items. It was becoming impossible to continue due to the crowd. It really didn’t make any sense, because it was a Wednesday night at a club/ restaurant not known for large events. Something was about to happen, and I guess I had to wait to find out.

Now for a little background…

Doing promotions puts you in the center of attention at times. Pretty girls (and guys) in tight tiny t-shirts with statements like “Drink Me” across the chest, come with their own problems. You learn pretty quickly that advances will come, sometimes to a level of being inappropriate. We all learn how to navigate these situations. A rude comment can be offset by a joke and a smile with some firm instructions if it got out of hand. An advance or offer for contact information could be redirected into other conversations and a quick exit.

So you can imagine, when I felt a hand rub across my butt, what was going through my mind. No one prepared me for this particular experience. And this wasn’t a time for thinking about an exit plan, repercussions of addressing this the wrong way, or anything about that. The (neighbor)Hood came out of me instantly.

Someone was about to get f-ed, er, I mean messed up.

The area I was in was packed and crammed full of people. It was toward the back of the club near a rarely used exit. I was standing next to one of my favorite bartenders who apparently was watching the entire thing unfold.

Once I felt that hand on my butt, it was time for action. As I was quickly turning around my hand was rising simultaneously. I needed to see my offender to ensure my target was achieved. My head & body finally turned around after what seemed like forever. I see a man smiling widely and as I am bringing my hand to commence to putting the smack down, the bartender grabs my raised arm. Just then I notice what looks like a deformed ear.

Before any of these clues registered, the bartender picked me up and dragged me to an area behind the bar. The crowd, unbothered, filled in the space I occupied instantly.

“What the hell are you doing?!?!?” I yelled, pissed that I didn’t complete my actions.

“Do you even know who that is?” he asked, pouring me a drink.

I didn’t need a drink. I needed my revenge. I had been disrespected.

I turned to the crowd and realized what had happened. Celebrities who attended the game, made their way to our club. They were being brought in through the back door so as to not draw attention. The hallway I was in became crowded because people figured out who was coming and wanted to be a part of the action. My dumb butt was actually standing in the way.

We will never know if that butt rub was on accident due to the crowd or on purpose. Nor will we know if that corresponding smile was a result of the inappropriate touch to my no- no spot or a friendly hello.

All we know is this:

Maria = 0 / Boxer = 1

Boxer wins.

That wasn’t the first time I got felt up…

Granny, what you doing?

So, I went to the mall one cool Saturday afternoon as a part of a date. It seems this may be a good match, as my date also likes to shop! Anyway, I wandered to my favorite retail store. Already getting excited once I noticed they were having a 70% off sale. I decided: I can use an $8.00 sweater, as I crossed the entryway into the store.

There was this short little old lady inside attempting to reach an item from the top rack. I, being the nice person that I am, offered to get the item down for her. I mean she was all of 4′11" probably from that whole “shrink when you get older” thing.

She was really nice and thanked me for helping.

“Since the sweater is long, I wouldn’t feel right about wearing it unless I “jazz” it up a bit with a belt.” she said.

Ok, hot stylish granny, you go on now..

Later, she came by again to ask my opinion. I was wearing one of my trendier outfits so I thought:

Ok little old lady, you get one and then I’m so done talking to you.

Not to be rude or anything, but I have ‘shopping business’ to attend to and there are a swarm of ladies in the “Large” section of the sale rack I have to fight through. So, I answered her question and she scurried off to the dressing room.

I finished my shopping, buying two silk shirts for $13.00 each and a silk/cashmere sweater for $8.99. Feeling pleased with myself, I went to the register. Here comes granny while I am signing the receipt.

“Oh sweetie, that sweater was too big for me so you can have it! It would look so good on you.” stylish Granny said.

She’s back again? I thought.

“Oh thank you, but that’s ok, I have PLENTY of pink sweaters. I don’t need another, but thanks anyway.”

“Oh you are too much!” she laughed. Big smiles across her face.

… And then slaps me on the butt as she turns to walk away.

Hard.

What the ....?!?!?! I was wearing my fitted jeans so I felt all of that slap. Offended and feeling somewhat molested, I walked away.

Did people see that?

I think I just got felt up by a hot, stylish granny!

Ewe...

Sigh.

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