On a day when I definitely needed it I was treated to the profound ego boost that is being asked out while standing in line for salad. Sadly, the gentleman prefaced his request by pulling his pants down to show me his underwear. I informed the servers that my salad should be nowhere near his salad at any point in time. The scariest part of this story is that I was criticized for turning him down too readily. I realize it’s been a while since I’ve had an even slightly normal experience with a male person, but throwing the “don’t-show-me-your-underwear-in-eating-establishments” standard out the window is not an option. Sorry, boys.
Now I’m back to the hopeless endeavor of randomly bumping into someone charming and attractive while substitute teaching. For some reason eligible bachelors are not often found in public school classrooms. And the few that work there are married. Because that is the unspoken rule of teachers.
Until I cave to the threat/inevitability of grad school, or am hired to write things, I will continue taking a super long time waiting for my lattes and praying that no one feels the need to start stripping in a show of affection. And I will also take into consideration that my stripping in public might be rewarded with a more positive reaction. No promises.