Caught somewhere between blond and brunette, I'm still having fun, and seem to be attracting more attention than I'd like to these days....not the good kind, mind you. Within the past few weeks, I've had a few, interesting encounters. So here's a random sampler of, and an ode to the latest men in my life....and the most unsuccessful ways to pick up on a girl (Note: names have been changed).
1. Vital stats: Danny. 185 lbs. Caucasian, male.
1. Vital stats: Danny. 185 lbs. Caucasian, male.
I met "Danny" on a Friday evening after work, in the elevator. Dirt splashes covered his body, the smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and a mountain bike rested at his side. I wondered what the heck this dude was doing in our office building. He extends a visibly greasy, black, filthy hand, which I take (wondering where I put my hand-sanitizer). Danny asks what my plans are for that night (slightly wierd?)I reply that I have none (OOPS! Big no, no). Danny then asks me what I like to do (who is this dude?) I spit out the first thing that comes to my mind, "watch movies, go out to eat, etc." (OOPS! Bigger no, no!) Danny ask me if he can take me out to dinner and a move (wierdness officially confirmed). I decline. He asks me if he can take me for a drink. I tell him I don't drink. Danny asks me if my boyfriend will be mad about us going out. (PLEASE, PLEASE. GET ME OUT OF THIS ELEVATOR!) Sorry bro. We're not going out. Danny asks me if he has scared me. (Dude, you scared me before I got on the elevator). I run off to meet my fake boyfriend.
2. Vital stats: Habib. 120.5 lbs. Middle Eastern, male.
I'm on my way out of Hollywood Video. I've come from the gym, look like a drenched rat, and probably smell like one too. A slightly creepy Indian man at the register stops me and asks me if I will take a survey from Hollywood Video. I reply that I'm not much of a survey person. He assures me the survey will not take long, as he flashes a big, yellow grin. I consent. He then proceeds with, "Hollywood Video would like to know......if you're single...." Flashes disturbing grin again.
See ya around Habib. I think I'll join Netflix.
3. Vital stats: Don Pedro. 350+ lbs. Hispanic, male.
What is it about single girls at bus stops? Was I striking a "pose" and not knowing it? Were my gym pants, t-shirt, and running shoes just a little too sexy?
I see "Don Pedro" zip down Idaho Ave. in one of those "kidnapping vans" (you know, the big white kind with no windows or doors). As he whizzes by, he looks over at me, smiles, and waives. I smile and waive back. (Oops, I've never seen this man before). I then hear screeching breaks and see the van back up. And then it backs up a little more (shoot- I look down and pretend to answer my phone). The van then pulls up in front of me and Don Pedro signals for me to hop in. I say no. He persists and then asks, "Where are you going?" To which I answer, "On the bus," and look away.
I can't help but wonder what guys like this are thinking. 'Cause I'm sure as heck thinking to myself, "It must be my lucky day-- I think I'll go ahead and hop into this huge, sumo-wrestler dude's kidnapping van, and enjoy the ride!" Honestly, I don't get it.
4. Vital stats: Ziggy. 155 lbs. Jamaican/islander, male.
I'm riding the bus home at 10:30 last Saturday night. There's about 6 or 7 of us on the bus, riding in dead silence, sneaking glimpses of one another (when no one's looking of course). A Jamaican dude, decked out with a head full of dreds and a political freedom-fighter T-shirt, steps aboard and quietly takes a seat. He pulls out a pen and starts taking notes on the back of a receipt, head faced down. As he gets ready to disembark, he walks over to me. All eyes turn my way. The bus driver waits for him to exit. "Ziggy" stops, leans over me, and places the receipt INSIDE my bag (I feel a little violated). Not a word is spoken. He turns around and walks off the bus. All eyes are waiting for me to read the note, so I play it cool. After leaving all his contact info, Ziggy proceeds to woo me in with remarks like, "dang girl, you lookin' good. "He then asks if I will meet him for tea. Tea?
Sorry mon, I had my sights set on smokin' some peace pipes, rollin' some joints, and jammin' to some reggae... mon.
I'm not sure what to make of my recent encounters, or why I seem to attract such high caliber men. Need I scowl more? Look a little meaner? Dress down less often (now there's a thought!)? All I can say is, girls....your competition just got a little tougher.
