So I am about nine months pregnant. You get the picture, the goddess mama waddling along ninth street in brooklyn, in my hiking boots cause those are the only things that fit at this point. I am still going into work, and my coworkers are looking more and more panicked every time I walk in the door. Some are quite blatant: "You're not going to have that baby right here, are you?" and "Oh,....my....God... You're HUGE." Which, by the way, you should NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER say to a pregnant woman, no matter how much she may resemble a whale. Because she will remember it, FOREVER. And hate you forever. Sorry, I'm a little sensitive about this subject I suppose.
Anyway, I digress. So I am dutifully wearing one of the hideously ugly purple maternity shirts, but, as I mentioned, my belly is really quite huge at this point, along with....other parts of my body. So things were a bit....tight. But feeling sexy, I most definitely, am not. So somewhere along ninth street there is a dive bar where the old drunken sailors start drinking at eight o'clock in the morning and one of them is standing in the doorway and growls "hey you sexy sexy"etc. etc. etc. Oh man, he has pissed off the mama bear. What, he thought I would be a smart sensible New Yorker and keep on walking? Oh, no. I turn, I growl, and attack. "What the *&**** do you think you are saying that to a pregnant woman for! What kind of person are you?" On and on I rage, not caring if everyone has stopped walking and is staring in amazement. Now he's scared. He'd been hoping for just a little fun morning sexual harassment, he didn't anticipate the pregnancy hormones. A look of panic and fear spreads over his face. He tries to go hide back in his bar. Stupidly, I actually go INTO the dive bar and continue screaming. (smart, huh?). He cowers and retreats further into some back room. With no further target for attack, mama bear sighs and heads back out into the world.
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