For once in my life I would like to be hit on by a guy who is around my age. When I was in college, my friends used to tease me, as I was a magnet for the foreign graduate students. If you were from Germany, did not speak much English and studying physics, then apparently, I was your type my freshmen year. But it doesn’t stop there, after college, I drew in an aging wanna-be-big- hair rocker. A few high school friends and I were at a local bar when the rocker approached me. Among those friends was my ex boyfriend. To his delight, a guy who very well could’ve passed as a member of White Snake, with long hair curly hair, tight jeans and puffy bangs, asked me for my phone number. Stunned, I gave it to him, a fake number, but still. This wasn’t anything like my daydream where a mysteriously handsome someone buys me a drink, finding me utterly fascinating, all the while reassuring myself, as well as my ex, that “Oh yeah, I’ve still got it.” Instead, he just laughed and I steamed; foiled again.
It keeps getting worse. Now, in my thirties, it seems that I am getting a lot of winks from guys who have to be nearing 50. What is this all about? Just once, I swear, one time, I would love for an attractive guy, my age, to give me a compliment or suggestive smile. Just once, just enough to boost a girl’s confidence you know? One of my best friends in college had men falling all over themselves all the time in her presence. I cannot tell you how many times a new guy slid up next to me and said under his breath, “So, what’s the story with your friend Veronica?” Augh! I wanted to say, “The story is, take a number Mister, she’s got you guys lined up out the door and around the block. Good luck to you.” If I didn’t love her so much I would’ve just quit hanging out with her. But to her credit, she is pretty awesome. What can you do? The girl can work a crowd like no one I have ever met.
Lately, at the two workout centers I go to, I’ve gotten the “How are you doing?” with a slight head nod from a couple of men. As I happily answer, “Fine thanks!” thinking how nice and friendly people are, how I love community places where you can get to know people, the guy throws in a wink at the end, like a misplaced exclamation mark. What is that?! I kid you not, the second time it happened, I turned around to see if someone else was behind me. This guy had gray hair! He had to be well into his fifties. Do I seem that attainable? Is there a mark on my forehead that says, “Easy prey, don’t worry about her age.” Or worse yet, do I look older than I am already? I even checked my fly, like maybe he was trying hint with his flapping eyelid that I should zip up my shorts to avoid future embarrassment. Nope, I was all buttoned and zipped.
There is a thread of hope in this case though. As I was signing up to continue my contract at one place, the slightly strange young guy working the desk asked my age as he filled out the appropriate sheet. “Surprised, I answered, “32.”
“Oh, sorry,” he backpedaled. “I meant your birth date.”
I gave it to him and then, bless this boy’s wonderful heart, he replied, “Gosh, you don’t look 32, I would’ve guessed 27.”
YES!!!! Not all is lost quite yet. You can bet that I will be holding that thread for a long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment