No, thank you, I’ll pass

I live in the West Village of NYC. It’s a very liberal, very progressive, tolerant neighborhood. I’ve seen a lot of weird shit – so much so that very little surprises me or fazes me anymore (Nothing fazes Bill Gazes!)
I’ve a had a small black man offer to “show me what a real pussy looks like” as I walked down the street with Mrs. Dynamite. I’ve been proffered a plethora of illegal substances, and solicited for sex by too many tranny whores to count. But today, it was all about the tone of voice.
As I walked down Christoper Street at 9pm to grab a slice of pizza following a big poker session, a guy standing against a car who looked a little like an Italian Chris Kattan, looked at me and simply state/inquired/offered, “FUCK?”
It was the exact same tone of voice a waitress would use when pouring you a cup of coffee and asking “Sugar?” Or perhaps bringing you a Caesar salad and asking “Pepper?”
But no – this was “Fuck?”
Now, I don’t think anything about my actions suggested that I was looking for hot man on man anonymous sex, but I guess this guy’s preflop reads are a little off.
I didn’t bother to decline, instead just continuing on my merry way, somewhat surprised that I’d even been surprised by this proposition.
All in a day’s work.
KD

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