In Her Shell
Sunday, September 10, 2006
  To The Guy Who Tried To Hit On Me At The Restaurant While I Waited For My Friend
This letter is in regard to the September 1 incident in which you attempted to chat me up while I waited on a bench, clutching my Costa Rica photo album and R.'s copy of "The 40-Year Old Virgin," and you leaned on your host podium, waiting for customers to seat.

Let me begin by saying that I don't often get hit on. This could be because I hang out with people who are better-looking than I, or simply due to my own obliviousness. Whichever the case, I appreciate the effort. However, there are several factors of which you should be aware.

First, I have a boyfriend. It's been a while since I've been able to say that, so I'm going to lead off with it. While I did not feel the need to blurt this out while you yammered endlessly at me, I hoped that it was evident through my polite smile and closed body language.

Second, you were at work. Your offer to "have a drink with [me] at the bar if he doesn't show up," while considerate, was inappropriate.

Third, I was waiting for a woman.

Fourth, your mustache looked lonely and cold. Some accompanying facial hair might do it good.

Fifth, and perhaps most importantly, your declaration that "Old School" is "the best movie EVER" is not going to get you laid, ever. Take note of this one. Even disregarding all of the above, and the fact that I had just said that I did not enjoy "The 40-Year-Old Virgin." I can't at the moment come up with a list of movies that might get you laid, but watch this space--I will keep thinking about it.

In closing, I must commend you again on your confidence. Though I did not find you the least bit attractive, I appreciate your appreciation of me, and wish you the best of luck with other customers in the future.

At least he didn't offer you a "mustache ride."

I don't see the point in having a mustache. I really don't.
I find that the kind of guys I'd LIKE to hit on me never actually hit on me. It's always the weirdos.

And while I'm not a big fan of the type of mustache that requires grooming, I'm a sucker for the unkempt scruffy look.
I specialize in men yelling out the window of their cars. "Hey sexy mama!" Things like that. SO fucking hot. I wish they would slow down so that I could leap in.
At least he used words. One time a guy actually hissed at me. As if that would make me want to tear my clothes off and let him have his way.
Mustache ride. Heh. Good one CP.
But, man, Old School is the best movie ever. I once had a guy in a video store hit on me by teling me "Your Friends and Neighbors" was the best movie ever. If you recall, a long line of us walked out of the theater in the middle of that one...
I'm absolutely oblivious when someone hits on me unless they're smiling and taking their clothes off in front of me and I still check behind me in case it's for someone else.

Loved the post and your reaction to the situation. I love clueless people. Wait, I think I just called me one of those up there. Never mind.
CP: Ewwwwwww!

Megan: I too have been the flame to the weirdo moths. I don't know what it is.

HB: Hissed? Maybe he was just a stutterer and was trying to say you were sssssssssssssso beautiful!

JAG: I still wonder why that movie was made.

Dale: It would be nice if there were some universal symbol, wouldn't it? Like the left-turn hand symbol while bike riding? It's probably best if nudity isn't involved at that initial stage, at least for people with unpleasant mustaches.
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