You Look Like You Were One Of My Girls, Weren't You A Dancer At Neighbors? by Jeff aka Ruth Utnage

I was waiting to speak to our annual Pride event sponsor, when this scuzzy, long black and grey haired man with pop bottled wire rim glasses, pale unshaven face, thin slits for eyes and a bottom lip that stuck out uncomfortably far. He had a pooch of a belly that he let hang and pull his back awkwardly forward, as if he had no core muscles to hold it. In a quiet and raspy voice, behind a frown and crossed arms he says to me:

"You look like you were one of my girls, did you work at Neighbors?" he said as he used his middle finger to trace the outline of his belly button through his shirt.

I went to shoo him away but he kept going, still circling his belly button, "Yeah, I think I got pictures of you. I got kicked out of Neighbors for two years, of course they're closed now. Prob'ly cause they kicked me out. Yeah, I'm sure of it, I got pictures of you. You looked good when you dress up."

Only, every word was creepy and spoken from behind a frown and his mouth didn't move forcing it to gurgle from the depths of his throat only adding to its eerie feeling.

For those that don't know, Neighbors was a gay bar, maybe still is, in Seattle. I never worked there, nor allowed strange, scuzzy, guys to photograph me (though, I suppose I'm not entirely opposed to new ideas, just saying...).

Creepers...any of you ever have a creepy experience with some random idiot?

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With Love
Jeff aka Ruth Utnage

Mail To:
Jeff aka Ruth Utnage 823469 D-610-2
MCC-TRU
P.O. Box 888
Monroe, WA 98272

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DOC: 823469
Name: Utnage, Jeff (though I am legally Ruth)

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