Somewhere in the haze of this boisterous trip we were walking through Belltown and J9 stopped the whole group to admire Sasha’s shoes.
Byron said Look, Bee, that is ladychat!
I furrowed my brow and commenced to examine the reasoning and goals behind the need to compliment sartorial choices.
The actual ladies (that would include the two females plus Byron) tried to interpret and explain but got exactly nowhere. I remain baffled.
They shook their heads and told me it is better that I just refrain from learning this lesson, as fake ladychat is worse than being a dude.
This makes perfect sense to me, though I think that my skills in the area could be, well, polished.
Though I am now almost capable of receiving compliments! One example: at the end of karaoke on Sunday Ade made the whole bar yell I love you Bee!
And I didn’t even twitch.
We were in Belltown to attend a metaphysical carnival featuring a magician, death metal bellydancing troupe, and heavily tattooed psychic. Byron was sufficiently freaked out he traded seats to avoid an unwanted reading – though he was of course a target anyway.
The psychic stopped in front of Byron and said I like you. I know they dragged you here by the dick, but at least you showed up. I really like you!