And they call women crazy ...
Happy Monday, everyone! My left shift key keeps sticking and is driving me absolutely batshit crazy. Other than that, a couple quick admininstrative details ...
* The winner of our nice prize is Kim! But if you commented on that post and want a little something in the mail, email me your address and I'll send it out (as soon as I get around to sending out a couple OTHER things I keep forgetting to send out).
* Good news, my baby is now out of jail. It would have been nice if he'd been out in time to save my lotion, but ... oh, well. I guess Jack Bauer can't save EVERYTHING.
OK, now a quick story:
A guy comes up to me. A much older guy. A GRANDFATHER. And he says, "Swishy, can I ask you a personal question?" I'm like, ummm ... OK. And he goes, "If I asked you out on a date, what would you say?"
OK. Really. What would YOU say? Keep in mind that you are caught COMPLETELY off guard because WHAT KIND OF GUY asks out a girl 30 years younger than him? I'll tell you what kind of guy: politicians, celebrities and millionaires. People with money or power. Of which this guy has neither.
This is what I said: "Well, you know, I'm really, really, really busy, and I go out of town a lot, so I'm not really around very much."
You would think that most guys would understand what that means. But as we've established, this guy is not like most guys. A few minutes later, he comes back.
"Swishy," he says, "will you be my Valentine?"
Will I be his WHAT? Am I in third grade? Isn't Valentine's Day like several weeks away?
And then he takes my hand and kisses it. But he doesn't stop there, oh, no, he doesn't. He starts MAKING OUT with my hand. Full-on, mwah, mwah, mwah, making out, and every time I move my hand away, he moves his head along with it. I should post a video reenactment because, for real, you would die. Thankfully--THANKFULLY--there was no tongue.
I am, however, still scrubbing my hands.