Making a little change

Hellooo!!!

This weekend it was pointed out to me that my P.S. section tends to be more interesting than the rest of my blog. I actually tend to add the P.S. because that's really what I want to talk about, but it has nothing to do with fitness/dieting/what have you. So, nerdy fitness will commence today with a different meaning. I will be exercising my mental muscle from now on... bringing you thoughts that only my weird psyche can come up with, and experiences that are everyday, but not when you look at them through my particular lens.

So, let's kick this off!! Today I would like to talk about inappropriate romantic/sexual advances. We've all had the occasional crazy come up and ask us for marriage/contact information/sex/etc., and yesterday I had it happen to me twice. Now, although I admit that my outfit was cute... (particularly my new black boots: Jessica Simpson Virnica 2... want to hate J-Simp's shoes, but just can't) my makeup was scarce, and my hair was definitely rocking a fair amount of end-of-the-day droopy greasiness. And yet, this did not seem to deter my gentleman callers.

Numero uno was the man at the concession stand at the Bridge. Let me preface this by saying that NO ONE should be attempting to pick up a girl at the Bridge: Cinema de Lux. Although it does have a well-kept appearance, it still manages to be ghetto. Add that ghetto-ness to the fact that my man was working the concession stand, and you've already got 2 strikes against you in my book. So... if you'd like to make an advance in this particular milieu, you need to really have your game up to snuff. Here's what I got presented: "Hello Miss, what can I get for you today? You're so pretty." It actually came out as if, "You're so pretty," was part of the introductory line they had be taught in concessions training. The equivalent to someone at McDonad's ending your order with: "Would you like fries with that nice set of honkers?" Now, what was I supposed to do in this situation?? I was caught off-guard, uncomfortable, but also still really wanted my bag of popcorn. So, I did what any girl that wants something (and would also like to see if she can get it for free) does... I batted my eyelashes, smiled, and said, "Thank you! I'd like a medium popcorn, please." Unfortunately, the last thing this man said to me was: "That'll be $5.50 ma'am." Boo.

Second man caught me buying candy at the airport. I was making my rounds through the candy store, taking a LITTLE BIT of this and a LITTLE BIT of that... I was totally controlling myself, but felt like I could use a good dose of sugary variety. As I made my way to the jelly bellies... Rico Suave decided he should point out my current situation: "Sweet tooth?" he said.
"Excuse me, what?"
"You seem to be going for about everything in the store."
"Oh, well... I like to have something to eat on the plane."
"Oh, you're flying? Where to?" (Okay... seriously? We're in an airport terminal!)
"Charleston."
"I'm from Georgia. My names George. What's your name?"
"George from Georgia, nice. I'm Katie."
"Well Katie, may I have your number?"
"I'm sorry George, but you live in Georgia, why in the world would you want my number? I'm not really in the mood for a commuter relationship."
"Who said you'd be commuting? A beautiful woman is worth a drive."

This went on for a while, so finally I gave him my number just to get him off my back. I was afraid he was going to call my phone to make sure it was my number... so I gave him my real number. I really regret this now, because I'd prefer he realize he got my fake number and be considered a bitch than really have to deal with him calling me... harumph. In the meantime while I anxiously await his call... let's talk about what was wrong with this situation.

First: The man started the conversation by pointing out that I was about to eat a ridiculous amount of candy. (You can bet your booty I put some of the candy back after this exchange. Since apparently I've been right all along, and people do give a rat's ass about what I do with my life, since they are put on the earth with the specific purpose of judging me... and so I need to act accordingly.) Who in the world thinks that the best way to hit on a woman is to first make her feel fat???!!! Although it might have seemed harmless to him, he just so happened to put his best foot forward onto a landmine. I mean... why hide it under the guise of a cute expression like "sweet tooth?" Why not just point out that my pants have slipped down just enough to allow excess amounts of me to spill out over the top? That'll get me in the mood. (My other thought is perhaps he was testing the water to see if I really loved candy and had the predisposition to plump up like a prize heifer. Maybe he likes 'em chubby.)

Second: Where was the witty banter that normally prefaces the demanding of digits? The only thing I knew about the guy before he made a proposition was that his name and his state happened to match, and is that really impressive? I mean, you could have Ken from Kentucky, Louis from Lousiana, the list goes on... Why should I want to talk to you again George? As the actors say: what's my motivation?

Third: The man lives in GEORGIA! Last time I checked, even established relationships don't make it when taken long distance (on average... don't go off on me about your relationship, because I don't mean you). Also, what the heck about the 5 seconds you've talked to me makes you willing to make the drive?? At this point, I could be some psycho killer who lures her prey by innocently lingering around candy stores. You never know... you never know... (Mwahahahaha!)

Last: Boys... If a girl's first response to you asking for their number is: "I don't know..." or some other evasive tactic, and you're not drunk enough to feign ignorance of that fact... don't ask again. She doesn't want your number, she's trying to be nice, and you're making her more uncomfortable with each additional advance. You might eventually get her number... but you will have ruined any chance you had of actually getting anywhere with it through your horrendous display of desperation. My advice to you is to either give up, or try and be an interesting enough person to where she'd want your number. Asking multiple times for a girl's number who obviously doesn't want to give it to you is creepy and counterproductive... plain and simple.

These two men brought up some memories for me, so I'm going to make a list of some of the worst things I've heard in men's attempts to seduce me.

- "You're American? Isn't your education system set up to where only the ridiculously wealthy can get an education? So... that means you're super rich?"

- "I'd be the kind of president that would allow gay marriage, because I can't judge gay people. Only God can judge them, and he'll make them burn in hell, but I'm not God." (Let me please state that I had mentioned to him my specialization in gender and sexuality, and that I am from San Francisco.)

- "You American's are utter idiots. One second you're democrats, the next second you're republicans. How can your whole population switch from one to the other every four years?" (Insulting and ignorant... seeing as the shift happens via swing voters.)

- "Nice Rack."

- "How old are you? You're 19? I'm 25."

- "Give me your finger. Want to have sex?"

- "Girl, your butt jiggles for days!"

- "What do you like most about a man sexually?"

- "Oh now, see, that's just hypocritical. You get pissed because I use this one little word, and yet you're all: 'Sure! Cut the budget for the war! I don't care if more soldiers die!'"

- "I work for the Air Force. No, I don't fly planes. I'm an electrician. No, not on the planes. I basically run the circuit breaker and switch light bulbs. Do I want to go back to school? No, I don't think so. I think about it, but then, like... I don't want to do homework."

There are many more that I can't think of at the moment... but what I'm really interested in now is hearing about the stupidity that you all have been witness to. Or perhaps, my gentlemen readers, what you have said during moments of said stupidity.

Love,
Katie

P.S. My dear friend Bradley is a wonderful cuddler. I thought this should be known by the masses.