I feel like it's been quite a while since I reflected on the wonderful complements I often get paid when walking down the street or shopping for cds (a long time ago) or shopping for the newest version of Strunk and White. Maybe it's just been a while since I found these encounters entertaining. OR, it could be the fact that I live in a pretty calm place for..."compliments"...
Yesterday I set out on a trek from my house to The Holly Theater to sweet talk businesses into advertising for us and sweet talk the managing director to overlook my laziness. It's not uncommon that I wave to a lot of people on such walks, nor is it uncommon that I have conversations with people I don't even know; thus, when a large man in a striped polo shirt carrying an oversized Nascar photograph made eye contact as I was passing by the antique mall, I geared up for the usual "hi, how ya doin." Instead of "hello," however, the man's first words were, "WOW! NICE," in a voice that one can only learn after living in a frat house for a few years or gearing up for marathon tailgating in the fall. Being me, I don't usually assume that people are referring to...me?...when they make comments like this...especially not passing by in front of the antique mall in Dahlonega. I turned and smiled, and he continued, "you live around here?" To which I responded with the truth, "yeah." He then used my tattoo as an excuse to get a little closer and ask his next question, "but yer not from here, right?" "No," I responded, "I'm from Memphis, Tennesse."
Then he launched into my FAVORITE pick-up strategy: "Well, what the hell'dyou move here for?" Right. 'Cause I'm an idiot. Because I'm slightly mentally handicapped. So I could meet a man like you. It's almost as complimentary as "I'm sorry," when I tell people I'm from Memphis. THANKS! Really. Not enough people have apologized to me for my coming from MY HOME. Oops! My panties just fell off. It's so hard being me, and no one quite understands. If only I could live in a place like you...a suburb (undoubtedly)...surrounded by strip malls, churches, and a false sense of security. Maybe I could get some sleep.
I digress. If you thought his strategy couldn't get any worse, you would be wrong. Remember, this guy likes Nascar (yeah, I'm just that judgmental). He then explained that he comes into town every now and then on business and dropped a delicious cherry on top of the whole encounter by asking, "you wanna go out sometime? I mean, it's just me in my hotel room."
Yep. He said that. He said that. He did. He actually said that. Don't believe me? He did. I'm not lying. That is what he said.
Gee. How does a girl reply to something like that? Let's brainstorm the possibilities:
-OH, HELL YES! I'm so bored! I can think of nothing better to do than hang out with you in your hotel room.
-*giggle* okay. What are you doing tonight? *wink*
-You think you can afford me?
-YOU DISGUST ME! *biff* *wham* *pow* IN YOUR FACE! (this is my favorite/preferred)
I'm sure there are plenty more, but I just calmly and politely responded with a simple no thank you, and I may have made a face that suggested disgust. I don't usually know when those faces happen, but I do know that I have a difficult time holding them back.
So there it is. My first indecent proposal in Dahlonega. It's almost hard to believe it took this long. But, then again, Dahlonega is a pretty mild, laid-back place to live. I know. I know. How lame is that? It totally sucks, and I appreciate your apologies.