Whenever someone sees my immaculately dressed self on the street, they are immediately stuck by two things; the first is my fist, as I hate being seen on the street, the second is how compared to my vibrant style, prostitutes look limp and dead hanging out of trunks in an alleyway.
However, if they look past my pants and shirt they'll see me naked. Though that may not be apparent at first, as I've got a built in sweater. Which protects me from interacting with attractive women on beaches and at water parks. Though, from a distance those same women see me and comment on "How nice his personality must be" and how I must be able, "To hold good conversation with a warm laugh." My laugh is in fact a soothing, "uh-hee-a-hah." Which sounds absolutely nothing like a noise a surprised donkey would emit. ((And I know a thing or two about surprising donkeys. I show them what it's like to be, "hanged like a horse." If you know what I mean.))
But back to my pants and shirt. Often times my pants have cleverly placed holes in the crotchular area, for style. My shirts are particularly suited to inspire a certain sense of high school angst combined with notes of nerdery. I know not everyone can pull off an Amazing Spider Man shirt at my age, because quadriplegia is a very serious condition.
Though it's not as if I'm completely without a target audience as far as my dress goes. I'm not aiming to brag here, but I've been invited out to, "Just lunch" by a number of men 20 years my senior. I hope with a concentration on improving my style I'll get that bumped up to invitations for, "Just dinner" followed by, "Just a lifetime of commitment and intercourse with someone I've only just met, who is not my sexual orientation nor particularly attractive."
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