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On being hit on

September 28, 2010

As a teenager I’d heard about pick-up lines and being hit on by complete strangers. I even remember it happening to me at a gas station late at night once when I was sixteen. But I wore sweats and braces a fair amount of the time and maintained a certain level of oblivion, and so most of the time I wondered, “Does that really even happen very much?”

It happens.

And as long as I’m not scared or uncomfortable, I don’t usually mind too much. As an adult I was once talking with a friend about my sense of ineptness with flirting. Can’t we just cut to the chase? To actually getting to know one another? He said it wasn’t about that. It was something about knowing that you got something the other person wants—to own that. I eyed him skeptically, but I’ve kind of been converting—in theory, that is; I wouldn’t know how it’s working out in practice. And just to be clear, I haven’t been practicing with the men who have been hitting on me.

We have (illegally?) hand-cut flowers on our table right now from someone who saw me admiring them on Saturday night.

Yesterday night a man called out several times, “What is your name?”

When pretending not to hear wasn’t working, I turned around while still walking to say, “Have a good night!” He gave me his name and tried to catch up. “I don’t want to talk. Thank you!” I said, slightly shaking my head as I continued at a fast clip.

“Okay. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

Tonight I buckled and took an independent cab (no meter, just one of those guys in the Bronx offering rides). I’d been walking around with my normous Norton anthology all day in high-heeled shoes (needed to match brown) and bought free weights to use for my exercising. The bags were super heavy, I gave in, and then proceeded to chastise myself the whole way home for my indulgence as I ate peanut butter M&M’s, my other indulgence. When we pulled up to my apartment, I thanked him, and he reached around the driver’s seat to help hand me the bags. “They’re heavy,” I warned. “I bought weights today, and so they’re really heavy.”

He stopped, looked surprised, and said, “You look great! You no need lose weight!”

And you’ve earned your $20, I thought.

I laughed and said, “Thank you! I’ll just see if I can get stronger.” And maybe I tossed my hair a little as I climbed out the door.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. Vaughn permalink
    January 17, 2011 10:57 am

    You bounce great! You no need toss hair!

    That’s awesome. Just like in the movies… Who’s that girl? (time slows, heads turn, wives glare at husbands)…

  2. January 17, 2011 11:01 am

    Lol! Thanks, Vaughn.

  3. Amy permalink
    January 17, 2011 3:12 pm

    Sharon, you hooked me with your writing on this one and rewarded me with a good chuckle when I read the whole thing. You are such a writer…I love how you put what’s in your mind on paper.

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