To the white woman at the gym. Since I was a good tennis player and fan I was almost going to ask you for an autograph until I noticed you werent Martina Navratilova; you just look her. You were playing basketball doing cross over moves that were so stiff that they looked like you were doing lunges. In between dribbling and shooting baskets you were doing dance moves that looked like a mix between river dancing and the hybrid dance moves performed at Folklife. At one point you were twerking as you dribbled the ball. That made me feel dirty. You got mad because you were standing under the hoop, I made a shot, you almost got hit in the head, and you looked at me like I asked you for reparations. You then proceeded to hit my ball away with your hand like it was trying to assault you. I reminded you that I was shooting a basketball and not a gun. My bad. It should be expected. You scared me. I regret not telling management on you. That is all...frighten on...
Posted on: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 20:22:38 +0000
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