I am now an oldmarriedlady, but I look back on my single days with rose-colored fondness. I have had a fair amount of success with the less-fair sex, but most of that success involved ego-boosting amounts of alcohol and the willingness to lower my standards.
However, like every woman, I've had my share of failures in the realm of "will you go out with me?" I thought for this TMI Thursday, I could revisit a few of those times when my pimp hand was not its strongest.
THE CAR GUY
I bought a Geo Metro one summer after a deer killed my sporty Dodge Neon (RIP, Stella!) and the only reason I chose the Metro was because the salesman, Clayton, was super hot. I was working as an assistant manager at a movie theater in those days, and he wanted to know if I could hook him up with some free tickets. I decided to give him two rainchecks (i.e. free passes) and paper clipped them to a note that said, "These two tickets are good for one movie if you take me." I included my cell phone number.
He never called... and he used the passes.
THE WAITER
I thought this server and I had a real connection, so I left my phone number in the little credit card book (along with a generous 25% tip!) and a note that said I would love to make him dinner for a change. I'm still waiting for the phone to ring.
THE BMOC'S
My freshman year of college I attended a small school in Springfield, Missouri. There was some kind of Harvest Homecoming-type-event where the girls were supposed to ask the guys in a creative way. I decided to ask a guy who was in the cast of the fall production of The Misanthrope (or something. I might be remembering it wrong. It might have been the Spring Semester, and it could have been a different play. I'm probably blocking it out.) Anyway, after the production, there was a tradition of a question and answer session for the cast and crew. After several people asked thematic questions, I raised my hand and stood up. "My question is for Josh. I was wondering if you'd go to the Harvest Homecoming-type-event with me." He looked pale and pained. "Uh, sorry. I already have a date."
Undaunted, I decided to try again with an artsy-seeming guy, Darren, who lived in my dorm building. Every day for a week I would put an envelope into his mailbox containing a post-it note with a word or two on it: WILL/ YOU GO/ TO HARVEST... I think it was day four when another girl asked him on this dorm-wide-phone-call update-system-thing (like a mass voicemail or something: another slight blockage of the hazy memory) and he said yes to her. I think they ended up getting married to each other.
THE GOLF COACH
My parents attempted to set me up with my sister's former high school golf coach, and we all went on a double date together. (Yes, you read that right.) I thought that after dinner he and I might continue the date on our own, and hinted about being really excited to go play mini-golf or see a movie or something. As we walked out of the restaurant, there was only an akward, "Well, that was fun; we should get together again sometime." The best part is that he's married now, and not only did I get to be their waitress on more than one occasion a couple of years ago (she doesn't like tomatoes) but I just saw him last week in the bank where I work!
To these boys, all I have to say is: it's your loss. Clearly.
Check out LiLu's blog today for her version of Post Secret... and if you don't already know about postsecret.com, you are seriously missing out.
Comments
Loved this post! :)
Dudette! That is totally bad ass! ;-)