Maria Diaz lady business. pop culture. whatever.

One Hot Broad

When I was in high school, there was this kid named Gregory who was pretty much your standard Knicks-obsessed, baggy jean wearing (or rather, overall with only one hook on as we did in the late 90s), black male high school student who dropped like the N-word like his life was one long Ku Klux Klan meeting. So, he talked like every other 16 year old black kid in NYC. With one exception. Instead of using the word "bitch" or "ho" like his pals, he constantly referred to women as "broads". For real, like this : "Naw man, that broad be trippin'!" It was the weirdest anachronism. Where did he learn it? Was he secretly listening to Frank Sinatra on his walkman?

In any case, I have been mildly obsessed with the word ever since. It's my favorite way to describe sassy bitches who like to make out. The word "slut" is so ugly and reminds me of girls who travel to Los Angeles and end up up making gonzo porno movies like Cream Pie Cuties 10. Broad is perfect. It makes you feel like you look like the beautiful Ms. Hayworth in the picture above. At least that's how it makes me feel.

So, 4 years ago, when I was 21, I had a mild addiction to posting and responding to personal ads on Craigslist. I had this temp job where I was so much more competent than the person I was subbing for (just by virtue of being able to use a computer and not do my nails at the desk all day) that I was able to get away with doing about 30 minutes of work and then email with hot dudes all day long. Or odd San Fransisco types who ALL work in IT (except, coincidentally, the guy I ended up dating for 3 years). So I set up this fake email account to ward off the crazies, called onehotbroad AT yahoo.com. Ha ha, I am so clever.

I start emailing with this 50 year old ex-punk rocker who tells me he is going to take me on a tour of strip joints and to a bunch of bars in the Tenderloin. Of course, this all sounds AWESOME to me. Man twice my age taking me to the sketchiest places in San Francisco that I met off the Internet? COUNT. ME. IN. We go on the date, stopping at the Gold Club, the Lusty Lady and a bunch of other places that I can't remember because I was completely and utterly wasted. So wasted in fact that somewhere between the tenderloin and north beach, I break my left foot and don't feel a fucking thing.

A few weeks later, I am house bound in my third floor walk up in the Mission, going stir crazy and rocking a gigantic plaster cast and as usual, decide to entertain myself by posting an ad on Craigslist, asking for correspondence. I get a flood of emails, one from my 50 year old friend, who proceeds to write me about the night we had (not knowing it was me he was writing to) in his usual verbose, exaggerated fashion. I mostly skim it until I read one part, in which he claimed that I had "mis-represented" my looks by calling myself a "hot broad" in my email because I was such an obese cow. Because you know, email addresses are things to be taken seriously. I am often surprised that Laura isn't a penguin, but actually a woman. Odd.

I never wrote to him or responded to any of his messages ever again. But I do continue to call myself a hot broad, at least on ebay, where it matters most. For this blog, I am SHARP, because I want to climb the blogosphere ladder based on my ability, not my sluttiness. I hope it can be done.