Conversation between myself and a much older man in Wal-Mart today:
Man: "Hello."
Me: being the polite individual I am I reply, "Hi, how are you?"
Man: "I'm doing well, thank you. Good-Lookin'!"
At this point, shock has completely taken over my motor skills and has sharply turned my head to look at the man who looks to be in his late 40s. I catch him looking me up and down. Now, a nervous yet unamused laugh escapes me and I turn my face away. Again, my motor skills have still got me in manual override mode and I grab 2 rolls of toilet paper, which I didn't need, to make myself look busy.
As I begin making my escape down the aisle the man calls after me, "I'm single, by the way."
Me: instinctively and without delay or any form of diplomacy, I reply, "Well, I'm not!" and I grab something else I don't need. (Don't ask me why THAT was my defense mechanism of choice.)
Man: "I kinda figured you weren't, as gorgeous as you are. Well, have a nice day!" he yells as I turn the corner of the aisle where I can breathe again.
I begin looking for a place to stash the items I involuntarily placed in my basket.
Seriously, did he just expect me to come running back down the aisle, fall at his feet and exclaim, "Take me, Big Daddy! I'm yours!" ??
Where's the cork that stops his brain matter from flooding the outer regions of Delusional Valley?
Monday, September 21, 2009
Delusions of the Desperate Kind
Posted by Carissa Mason at 11:21 AM 3 comments
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