Are You Hitting On ME?
OPEN: JANUS FILE #0239
Well, things at work last Saturday night were at least marginally better than they had been the previous night. Yes, there was the whole thing of it being a Saturday night, which meant a certain level of general insanity. On the other hand, the problems with the change safe had been resolved, and I was not hoarding my ones and fives like Scrooge McDuck. (Well, no more than I usually do.)
But then came that little bit of strangeness. And when I say strangeness, this was strange even for me.
It happened a little after 3:00 AM, when a group of about three or four came in. They asked where the restroom was, and as I have to do at least two or three times a night, I told them that we didn't have a public restroom. (I have to do this in spite of the fact that there is a sign on both doors stating precisely that.) They hadn't even made it through the entrance, and they turned around and went out.
Or so I thought. A minute or so later, one of the women came back in the store. It looked as though she might have been wearing a push-up bra, but the first thing she did was to cup her hands under her breasts, push them up just a little more, and ask me, "Do you think I'm hot?"
That should have been my first clue that something just a little strange was going on. But, this was an area in which I can be notoriously clueless.
I decided to take the safe route, and I replied, "Yes, you are attractive." At first, I thought that would satisfy her. But as she asked me to point her in the direction of the beer, she made a couple of similar remarks. I knew things were starting to get a little out of hand when said something about how you could still see her hipbones, and she invited me to take a look as she began inching down the waistband of her slacks.
I could see that this was getting close to becoming a Girls Gone Wild moment, so I reminded her that there were security cameras in the store. That seemed to bring everything back to business. She finally made her selections, paid for them, then left.
It wasn't until about 10 or 15 minutes later that I began thinking: Had she been trying to hit on me?
I began to think that I should not have sold her that beer, because I think she might have been just a little too drunk. Hitting on me, or at least trying to, should have been a clear sign that she was in a less-than-legal state of mind.
Trust me, I know what my level of sex appeal is. At the top of the scale, you will find Sean Connery, George Clooney, Brad Pitt -- anyone that People magazine has ever named as their "Sexiest Man Alive," in other words. Below that, you will find guys that could easily be contenders for SMA. My guess is that the list would include David Boreanaz, Mark Harmon, and David McCallum, among others. (If People had been around during the 1960s, McCallum definitely would have been one of their SMAs.) Below that, at the bottom of the scale, you will probably find Gilbert Gottfried.
You will find me several levels below that.
And if it sounds as though I was a little clueless about that woman coming on to me (or trying to), I was. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me that often. And on the very rare occasions when it does, I generally don't realize what the female in question is attempting. (Thank goodness, there haven't been any instances where guys have tried to hit on me. I would probably freak out.) I should say that I don't realize it at the time. It's only after someone comes on to me (and doesn't succeed) and has left that I realize what she was trying to do.
I know how attractive I am -- not very. Trust me, I can't think of any female that would seriously find me attractive.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0239
Well, things at work last Saturday night were at least marginally better than they had been the previous night. Yes, there was the whole thing of it being a Saturday night, which meant a certain level of general insanity. On the other hand, the problems with the change safe had been resolved, and I was not hoarding my ones and fives like Scrooge McDuck. (Well, no more than I usually do.)
But then came that little bit of strangeness. And when I say strangeness, this was strange even for me.
It happened a little after 3:00 AM, when a group of about three or four came in. They asked where the restroom was, and as I have to do at least two or three times a night, I told them that we didn't have a public restroom. (I have to do this in spite of the fact that there is a sign on both doors stating precisely that.) They hadn't even made it through the entrance, and they turned around and went out.
Or so I thought. A minute or so later, one of the women came back in the store. It looked as though she might have been wearing a push-up bra, but the first thing she did was to cup her hands under her breasts, push them up just a little more, and ask me, "Do you think I'm hot?"
That should have been my first clue that something just a little strange was going on. But, this was an area in which I can be notoriously clueless.
I decided to take the safe route, and I replied, "Yes, you are attractive." At first, I thought that would satisfy her. But as she asked me to point her in the direction of the beer, she made a couple of similar remarks. I knew things were starting to get a little out of hand when said something about how you could still see her hipbones, and she invited me to take a look as she began inching down the waistband of her slacks.
I could see that this was getting close to becoming a Girls Gone Wild moment, so I reminded her that there were security cameras in the store. That seemed to bring everything back to business. She finally made her selections, paid for them, then left.
It wasn't until about 10 or 15 minutes later that I began thinking: Had she been trying to hit on me?
I began to think that I should not have sold her that beer, because I think she might have been just a little too drunk. Hitting on me, or at least trying to, should have been a clear sign that she was in a less-than-legal state of mind.
Trust me, I know what my level of sex appeal is. At the top of the scale, you will find Sean Connery, George Clooney, Brad Pitt -- anyone that People magazine has ever named as their "Sexiest Man Alive," in other words. Below that, you will find guys that could easily be contenders for SMA. My guess is that the list would include David Boreanaz, Mark Harmon, and David McCallum, among others. (If People had been around during the 1960s, McCallum definitely would have been one of their SMAs.) Below that, at the bottom of the scale, you will probably find Gilbert Gottfried.
You will find me several levels below that.
And if it sounds as though I was a little clueless about that woman coming on to me (or trying to), I was. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me that often. And on the very rare occasions when it does, I generally don't realize what the female in question is attempting. (Thank goodness, there haven't been any instances where guys have tried to hit on me. I would probably freak out.) I should say that I don't realize it at the time. It's only after someone comes on to me (and doesn't succeed) and has left that I realize what she was trying to do.
I know how attractive I am -- not very. Trust me, I can't think of any female that would seriously find me attractive.
CLOSE: JANUS FILE #0239