Walking around NYC with a fat lip and scab on your face teaches you a lot of things. Mostly that people have seen weirder things and will still stare you down.
What was very interesting is that women did not stare me down. But every single man I saw couldn’t look away. However, none of them asked me what happened.
It was weird. Real weird.
On several occasions I wanted to walk up to said businessman and say, “yea, I have a scab on my face and a fat lip, what of it douchelord?” To the kids staring me down in the subway I wanted to scream “stop looking at me or I will mess you up even worse than this!”
The good news is that this weekend my scab fell off, so no more staring. The seriously weird news is that my boyfriend and I will now have identical scars. No joke. Both on the right sides of our mouth, below our lip. That is not normal.
Also, we went to Trader Joe’s yesterday and now have enough ketchup and salsa to last the next six months. God, I love productive weekends.