Monday, September 7, 2015

Labor Day

Yay Labor Day! A day off work! A day at the pool! A day to get ready for fall! A day to sit inside and watch an NCIS marathon... no?

Sidenote: yes, yes I am quite the investigator.  It keeps me on my toes, alert, and ready for action at all times.  (I can feel the judgment right now and I'm not ashamed - I embrace my old man tv watching tendencies. And you can quit that side-eye right now. NCIS does not feed my safety paranoia vigilance because I'm not in the Navy so I'm quite safe from the ills that befall these characters.)

And now a quick about-face.  I have often wondered what it is about me that leads random strangers to engage me in conversation.  I've been told I have RBF and judging by photos, they aren't wrong.  So why, why I ask you, do I often find myself in awkward situations with strangers? Take the flight I had a few months ago when the lady sitting next to me talked to me the entire flight and gave me a hug upon deplaning.  Not kidding, but she also gave me about 18 chik-fil-a coupons, so I considered that one a win.  Or the flight a few months before that when the guy sitting next to me told me all about his life, his workout plan, his gout (yuuuup), and his retirement plans.  And it's not limited to flights.  On the beach this weekend I had multiple people ask me to take their photos. Why did they not look at me and think "wow, that's a bad bitch that might run off with my iphone 6+ phablet, let's ask someone else...." or "wow, that girl looks really hostile, let's not disturb her." Instead, I was Annie Leibovitz.   Or the gentleman swimming in his boxerbriefs that was attempting to chat me up.  I'm sorry, sir, I was distracted by the blue cotton plastered to your nether regions instead of what should have been swim trunks that float and provide you a modicum of protection/decency.  Ugh, awful.  I blame my endeavor to try and be a nicer person upon moving to the south.

And finally, my promised Budweiser story.  Last week I was parched, parched, while out doing some last minute shopping and popped into a burger joint to grab a pop.  Yes, I said pop, not soda, deal with it.  Anyway, while I was paying the Budweiser delivery guy was making his delivery and came up to have the manager sign the delivery forms.  We had like a 25 second interaction when the manager had to sign the forms while ringing me up, so the Bud guy and I made eye contact, I smiled at him to express the fact I was not overly perturbed by the fact he was interrupting my transaction, and went on my merry way. Or so I thought.  As I walked to the parking lot, got in my car, and started ol' Sally up, I see the Bud guy jogging out to me and waving.  Our interaction goes a little something like this:

Bud: hey, I don't normally do this, but I was wondering if you have a boyfriend?
Me: oh um, yes, actually I do
B: So, uh, is it serious?
M: haha yes, yes it is, I'm sorry
B: Oh well, it was worth asking...

Soooo I hate this about myself but when a totally random hits on me, I was always take the easy way out and lie and say I have a boyfriend rather than invite the unpleasantry that will inevitably follow a conversation that says "no, I don't have a boyfriend, but I also don't want to go out with you."  And perhaps it's not fair to think such a remark would be met with unpleasantness and it also sets a bad precedent imply that the only reason I wouldn't want to go out with you is because I have a boyfriend and encourages such assumptions and behavior to continue.  All that aside, I'm just not up for taking on the entire world of feminism on my shoulders.  Also, if he had jogged out to my car holding the puppy, my answer might have been different.

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