Monday, December 13, 2004

Throw me more than a bone, will ya?

Sometimes people converse by indicating things with body gestures and by giving vague or cryptic verbal clues to the next part of what she or he is trying to communicate.

Let's describe this phenomenon:

"Lassie, what is it? What is it? Are you trying to tell us something? Oh! Timmy's stuck in the well???!!!"

Strangers in the afternoon at the Citgo

So I've got some time off on Friday. Good day to do a bit o' shopping while others are slaving away in their offices. I stop at a nearby gas station (Citgo), which is rather small. It's tucked into a corner of land and has, oh, maybe four pumps total.

I'm wearing a cute pair of jeans, cute shoes, and a decent amount of makeup (read: highlighting the eyes), but my hair was atrocious and up in a ponytail. At this point, flyin' in the cool, breezy December middle TN air.

A pickup truck pulls up behind me. To wait for me to finish, of course. I shake my head and keep on with my task.

One of the guys in the truck gets out. Mistake #1: I turned around. Mistake #2: I smiled.

Hey, it's Christmas time, I'm a Southern gal in the South, and it's just a nice thing to do.

The guy utters, "Gas station's really busy right now," or something similar.

"Yeah, I guess," I reply. *Maybe he won't speak again* I think...and PRAY.

Then the dreaded occurs. "You got a boyfriend?" came the voice next to the pickup truck.

I'm thrown off guard. *What does he want?* After what seems like an eternity, I respond (balancing sweetness and firmness as well as I can), "Well, I guess that's for me to know and for you to keep wondering about." would he take it? Can I jump into my car fast enough? Does he have a shot gun? How loud can I scream?

"I was just tryin' to pay you a compliment, ma'am," explains Mr. Pickup.

*Oh* I think, *I guess he's not gonna abduct me or ask for my number.*

"Thank you." A Southron gal has to be nice.

"Whoever he is, he's a lucky man," says Mr. Pickup with a grin.

Stunned again, I get in my car and dazedly make my way off the property.

So.....Mr. Man, whoever you are, wherever you are, you will someday be a very lucky gentleman, according to Mr. Blue Pickup. I just hope you can wait till then.

Mating Call of the Geeks

I was in a local Borders this past Thursday, feelin' cute and lookin' for good children's books and whatever else I could find. Made some excellent discoveries (like the interactive _Egyptology_ book and the Jane Monheit CD on sale for $15.99). Made my way to the checkout counter.

Alex was the clerk. And no, he wasn't FINE, but he was a tall, dark-headed, regular guy sort of way. He looked like a nice guy who was happy with his life. Something burned in my chest. (Whopper burger scarfed down in the car, maybe? Or was it my "future husband detector" going off?) I wanted to ask him what he liked about working at old he was, does he want children, did he love Jesus. I kept stealing looks at him. He'd grin. I'd grin. Only slightly. Well, then a little more. But always a little controlled. I chuckled/giggled a bit and said hi. He chuckled a bit and said hi. The transaction went quietly and smoothly. I had a reckless thought---"Maybe I should write my phone number on the receipt." But my shy self who likes to play by The Rules checked that thought---"Nope. The guy should make the first move." So I just left him with another nice smile and a bit of a strut out the door.

I'm sure I'll return to this Borders. It's a good location and usually easy to get in and out of, both store and parking lot. I'll let you know if I see Alex again. :o)