As I walked to Borders on my lunch break to browse, I thought of the possibility of meeting a cute guy in the stacks. I imagined browsing through an aisle, making eye contact with the guy down a few rows wearing thick rimmed glasses, a plaid shirt, and skinny jeans, and him wandering over to strike up a conversation about the book he was looking for. I then scoffed at the possibility of this actually happening.
I wandered through the store and then upstairs to look at the decorative journals. I was skimming over the pretty covers when I heard the guy next to me mumble something. I looked up. He looked back at me and said, "Oh don't mind me, I'm just talking to myself." I continued browsing. Then he took a step closer, "Look, I saw you downstairs. My grandfather said to never let a pretty face go by...and you don't see someone as pretty as you very often so I had to come over here and talk to you." I didn't realize that this was a well-crafted pick-up line and instead thought this might have been romantic if he wasn't wearing those shorts that are so long they look like short pants, a collared shirt that could have been a dress and donned one of those haircuts that is shaved on both sides and then quickly accelerates into some kind of curly fro. What else to do, but thank him for a very nice compliment. But the conversation continued for thirty minutes- twenty eight of which I tried to think of ways to escape and the other two I thought about how now I couldn't use my 50% off coupon. There were so many excuses I could have given him when he asked for my number, but what did I do? I gave him my number. Then when he asked me what time I took breaks and I said it varied, he gave me a weird response about lying and eye contact (psycho). The strangest part of this was as he left he called me "Lyss" like we had known each other long enough for him to give me a nickname. Then the topper. Five seconds after he leaves I get this message:
"For a second there I thought you were gonna play me. Thanx for your number. Stay sexy."
The real question here is what is wrong with me? What do I attract guys like this? Is it the way I dress? I must radiate "South Jersey". I own a onsie. I'm burning it.
I wandered through the store and then upstairs to look at the decorative journals. I was skimming over the pretty covers when I heard the guy next to me mumble something. I looked up. He looked back at me and said, "Oh don't mind me, I'm just talking to myself." I continued browsing. Then he took a step closer, "Look, I saw you downstairs. My grandfather said to never let a pretty face go by...and you don't see someone as pretty as you very often so I had to come over here and talk to you." I didn't realize that this was a well-crafted pick-up line and instead thought this might have been romantic if he wasn't wearing those shorts that are so long they look like short pants, a collared shirt that could have been a dress and donned one of those haircuts that is shaved on both sides and then quickly accelerates into some kind of curly fro. What else to do, but thank him for a very nice compliment. But the conversation continued for thirty minutes- twenty eight of which I tried to think of ways to escape and the other two I thought about how now I couldn't use my 50% off coupon. There were so many excuses I could have given him when he asked for my number, but what did I do? I gave him my number. Then when he asked me what time I took breaks and I said it varied, he gave me a weird response about lying and eye contact (psycho). The strangest part of this was as he left he called me "Lyss" like we had known each other long enough for him to give me a nickname. Then the topper. Five seconds after he leaves I get this message:
"For a second there I thought you were gonna play me. Thanx for your number. Stay sexy."
The real question here is what is wrong with me? What do I attract guys like this? Is it the way I dress? I must radiate "South Jersey". I own a onsie. I'm burning it.
