If the crack that you recently smoked is seeping out of your widened, red, wet eyes so that I can spot you from across the room and know instantly that you’re a crackhead who’s about to say something to me, even if it’s as lovely as, “You got a name to go with that pretty face?” do not be surprised if I laugh, embarrassed, and say, “Ha, no!” because I am merely standing there debating giving you my real name. And while I am 80 percent set on telling you I am Jo Ann, I keep quiet while you tell me, rather awkwardly, that your name is [name withheld to protect the drug addled] and that you “hope we can meet again at some other more opportune time.” Which, when you’re a crackhead, probably means in the parking lot while I’m fumbling for my keys (thankfully that did not happen).
3 thoughts on “Open letter to all crackheads who may wish to pay me a compliment while I’m in the grocery store”
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God bless crackheads. I’m kind of used to them seeing me tinkle over at Greg’s. Yesterday in Harlem, I actually overheard a crackhead’s conversation with a passerby. He said, “Ooh girl, I want to lick you head to toe covered in chocolate.”
let me guess. kroger, cleveland & poplar…?
I’ve gotten into the habit of simply staring when receiving unsolicited compliments. Sometimes i let my mouth drop open a little. It seems to work in weirding said complimenter out as much as they are weirding me out.