Picure me walking down Columbus street.
I like flowers.
I really do, specially when they are free.
But this time I am kind of drunk and with 20 bucks in my leather jacket pocket.
Me and a new zelander and a former macho lover.
I am with my bike, passing every single red street light 'cause I hate waiting.
I see purple flowers and then red roses.
I buy one and wait for the change.
A voice in my back says "how much are the flowers?"
I say "three dollars".
The macho ex-lover soon realizes that I already pay and says, "oooohhh. ok. I thought you want it me to buy it for you. That's what man do."
I say " That is what girls make boys do. A real women buys her own flowers"
Mad that I did not say it loud enough, or my accent got in the way and I only mumbled.
How the fuck did I almost fell in love with this piece of shit.
Burning inside, not enough bad words to describe.

And ooooohhhh....sweetheart I am bisexual, I like all colors...blah blah...SUCK YOUR MAMMA'S LAME ASS RELIGIOUS VAGINA MUTHER FUKER.

I can buy my own flowers. But this time, I am not buying a flower for me. To make you understand how I function, I am pushed to lie.
"I'm actually buying this for a man"
Then I use his bathroom, leave his hotel room and bike so hard and fast that my ankle gets hurt. Is that what man do too???
OOOOhhhh sorry, next time I'll let you buy me flowers and I'll make sure I hurt your ankle.
'Cause you are kind of a man, right??