So, I think I got hit on a little this past week...by a guy. Granted he was a little strange, but not so strange that I couldn't enjoy the flattery just a little.
I was enjoying my Thursday night off. I'd gone out for dinner with a couple of friends, and then made my way to a Chapters store to buy the book I needed for my next book club meeting. Book in hand, I picked up some herbal tea from the Starbucks inside the book store and found myself a comfy arm chair in which to sit and read for a while in solitude and relative silence. I was about twenty pages in when I heard a voice beside me. I looked up and saw a man standing there. He was in his mid-thirties, I'd say, and he was asking for the time (I guess seeing my bare, watchless wrists weren't clue enough). I apologized for not wearing a watch and said that I didn't know the time. He asked what I was reading, and told me the name of a book that he was in the middle of. blah blah blah blah blah. Then he introduced himself and stuck out his hand, which I shook. I forget what he asked me next, but his next questions were to enquire whether he could bring over his cup of coffee and would I be interested in chatting for a few minutes.
Now, I gotta tell you that I almost laughed out loud. Because I found the situation just so funny on a number of levels. First, though I have nice facial features, I think (that's what they always say about overweight people anyway), I really don't have a body that would inspire lust in most men! Second, I'm in my mid-forties...not exactly a prime era for being picked up. Third, and most important in my contemplation of laughter, I was sitting there a depressed woman starved for time by herself and it struck me that every moment I spent talking to this man was a moment taken away from what I most needed. There was a sense of the ridiculous about that moment and I think my mouth must have curved up a little because he smiled back at me.
I sighed loudly, and this is what I said: "Brian, I gotta tell you...I have a very loud life and three children and a husband at home, and while I'm sure you're a very lovely person, what I am doing here at the bookstore tonight is trying to find a time of solitude and quiet so that I can face them all again tomorrow. So no, while I appreciate your offer, I will not be chatting with you tonight. But thanks for asking."
End of story. He apologized for intruding and said it was nice to meet me anyway; he then made his way back to his table, where coffee and computer awaited him. Incidentally, I noticed as he walked back to his table that he was wearing a watch - I felt like calling him back to suggest that the next time he asked a woman for the time, he might first consider sliding his timepiece into his pocket!
I tucked myself a little deeper into my armchair and opened my book again.
Anyway, for a tired, depressed, overweight and overworked woman, the night turned out to be not so shabby. The next time I'm feeling low, I might just put that same shirt back on (it was a good colour on me and revealing of just a little bit of cleavage) and head back to the same Starbucks. It seems like my order of passion tea was just the ticket for my ego.