ABCs of Romance

Earlier this week I was standing in line at Rubio's to get some dinner. The couple in front of me were having a difficult time deciding which type of taco they wanted to order, so I seized the opportunity to read while waiting. I realized then that I forgot my book (Storm of Swords, bitches), so I pulled out my new phone to play me some Words with Friends.

I felt that someone's eyes were on me, so I looked over my shoulder. There was a man behind me in line, and he smiled when I turned. I nodded at him and returned to my game.

"Play VOIDS," I heard, unnervingly close to my ear.

I resisted every urge to execute some sweet moves that I learned from Bruce Lee. Instead, I turned and said, "I'm sorry?"

He cheesed again. "Play VOIDS, off of your S. It's better than the NOD you were going to play."

Oblivious that he might be trying to chat me up, I considered the move. It was crap. "But then I'm wasting a triple-letter on an I."

His smile froze. "Oh. Yeah, you're right."

I then realized he didn't care about my game; he cared about HIS game. And I Bruce Lee'd it right in the face. Sorry I shot you down and showed my superiority at Scrabble in one fell swoop, Rubio's Guy.

If you were a wink...

I must admit that material for this blog has been a little slow of late. Any weird come-ons have been from my boyfriend, and frankly those are pure awesome.

As luck would have it, I've been avoiding a creepiness goldmine without even knowing it.

About four years back, I signed up for a dating site in a fit of loneliness. I promptly forgot about it and got on with my life. Recently, they had been sending me email notifications that I had received a "wink" from someone. Winks are creepy enough as it is, but electronic winks? Doubly creepy. So I gleefully deleted the emails and went to make out with my boyfried.

While cleaning out my junk mail, I noticed it was cluttered with these "winks" from various users. I hadn't used the site in years, and the process of deleting your profile from this dating site is pure evil. But I decided to bite the bullet and get that crap done. It was like Dante's Inferno, littered with the bones of broken dating dreams.

In the Second Circle, I had to swim through the mire of winks. Towards the top of the heap was this message from a diamond in the rough:

Seems pretty innocent, right? Well, two months of being ignored would leave anyone feeling a bit desperate:

1. Spell check is awesome.
2. Grammar is awesome, too!
3. "Need a partner for a night"? After being the butt of a lot of "that's what she said" jokes, I am fairly well-versed in Double Entendres. "Partner for the night" roughly translates to, "I want to swing you around the dance floor, maybe hurt your shoulder doing The Pretzel (so you can't fight me off), and breathe on you with my mouth open. Later, I'll pop in a tictac in hopes of a sloppy good night kiss."

With that chilling visual in mind (and since I'm a total glutton for punishment), I clicked on his profile picture.

My profile has been hidden, disabled, and deleted.

In my day...

And older gentleman called the customer service line today, but had to call me back. He asked me, "Who do I ask for when I call back?"
"Danielle."
"Well, young lady, if I was nineteen I'd ask for you anyway."

Thank you, sir.

Really? Really.

So I guess the following message on facebook at about 1 am this morning:

"Just wanted to say that I've had the biggest crush on you for foreves and wanted to ask you out... hope that I'm not being a bother... lol kinda drunkish at the moment but finally got the nerve to ask....... lol"

How has he not noticed that I've been in an relationship for a year?

Ain't No Hollaback Girl

Around Thanksgiving 2010 I had a brief spell of dating a guy who travels frequently. Brief, meaning two or three dates. He was about to leave the country for two months straight. He told me before he left that he would stay in touch. He didn't, and after a while I realized it was stupid of me to expect him to.

He finally got around to calling me in February of 2011, just about when I had started dating my current boyfriend. The voicemail he left was long and rambling, about how we "should get together for some coffee...or something" and "catch up on everything". He ended it with, and I kid you not, "holla back at me girl!"

Oh. Hell. No. I ain't no hollaback girl.

Hands-On Approach

I was standing at the counter of Native Foods, waiting for my salad to be delivered, minding my own business. I feel something brush my posterior region. It's quick, but thorough. I turn, thinking that I was assaulted by a low-hanging purse of a passerby. I see a family walking away, but the mother (with her purse) is on the far side of the group. The member closest to me a twelve year-old boy, resolutely looking every direction but at me. His hand was still open and pointed towards me like it was the Millenium Falcon struggling to free itself from the tractor beam of my butt.

Why do these things happen? Is it because it's there, and through no fault of mine, "asking for it?"

By the way, remind me to never use the Death Star analogy again.

Do You Have a Permit for That?

Dear Building Inspector,

Do you not understand that I can see you when you look me up and down? We were talking and making eye contact right before. Remember?

Pretty sure buildings are the only thing you're paid to inspect.

Sincerely,
Danie