I got hit on the other day while I was at the grocery store. It was surprising to me because I get hit on approximately never. I think it has something to do with the fact that I look like a mean Russian lady.
It’s ok. It’s just the way my face looks, and I’ve made my peace with it. And frankly, if looking mean keeps people from bothering me, I’m fine with it.
Anyway, despite my mean mug, some poor sap decided to chat me up in the candy aisle. He sidled up to me, regarded the candy for a few moments, then said, “It’s hard to find good candy these days, huh?”
Not really. Notice the entire damn aisle in front of us, fully loaded with candy. “Yeah, I guess,” I said.
“What kind of candy do you like? Do you like peppermints?” He raised his foot and kicked a bag of peppermints. (I am not making this up.)
This couldn’t really be a sincere attempt, could it? Maybe he was some sort of hipster, trying to flirt with me ironically. I turned to get a good look at him. He was definitely not a hipster, just an earnest young man with no game.
“Um,” I said, “I like Twizzlers,” and grabbed a bag. If I were as mean as I look, I would have told him that I was buying them for my fiancé.
“Twizzlers?!” he exclaimed. “I love Twizzlers!”
“Yeah…” I said, trying to avoid eye contact.
“They match your red hair!” he called after me. (My hair is brown.)
“Thanks,” I said.
“It’s very nice!” he hollered, as I scurried away as quickly as possible.
And that, dear readers, is quite possibly the single most awkward conversation of my life.