"Women are meant to be loved, not understood" - O. Wilde
This is a great pick-up story submitted by one of my readers...enjoy! And send along one of your own!
So I was on my way to meet my friend for a movie and coffee on a Friday night. I was at a red light doing the usual waiting-at-a-red-light stuff, when I caught motion out of the corner of my eye. I look to my right out the passenger window, and the guy in the truck next to me is gesturing pretty definitely in my direction. In the midst of a dear-lord-whose-pet-is-dragging-from-my-bumper moment, I roll down my window only to hear, "HI! ARE YOU SINGLE?" Of course, priding myself on my witty repartee, I replied, "HUH?" He then proceeds to shout at me through my passenger window that his name is Eddie, he "doesn't normally do this" but he looked over and thought I was "really attractive" and wanted to know if I was single. It was dark, cold and I didn't feel I looked particularly enchanting in my chunky turtleneck and my hair in a ponytail, but apparently I have achieved the level of cuteness necessary in Bakersfield for a drive-by-pickup! Still proud of my legendary wit, I reply, "THANKS!" At this point the light changes color, and he yells at me to meet him at the cafe. As there are no cafes on the street and I'm still a little freaked out by the fact that he's pacing my car, I respond with "I have plans!" At this point, I'm thinking to myself that the low point in my social life was New Year's Eve, when I joined EHarmony and then went to bed at 10:30. So, the guy who thinks I'm cute at the stoplight and who drives a nice car ranks higher than that, and I shout my number out to him through the window.
Not 30 seconds later, my phone rings, and it's a number I don't recognize. I answer, and the first thing I hear is, "I'm not calling you calling you. I'm just making sure I have the right number." I laugh at him and, as my shock has ebbed and allowed the witty brain to take over from the dumbass blonde that was in control, I ask him to repeat his name for me. "It was Eddie, right? Not wierd stoplight stalker car guy?" I hear a strained sort of chuckle forced out (you know, the kind when the other person doesn't really get the joke but is laughing because he thinks he's supposed to...) and then fumblingly I hear, "And your name was Melissa, right? Not wierd stoplight stalker car girl?" Ouch, Eddie! You can't repeat the joke straight back to the person who just said it, you have to roll with it! 50 points for unique approach, -40 for lack of wit... so I give him one more chance. Short girls NEVER understand what the big deal is about height or why it sucks so much when they take the tall men and leave the scrawny ones for us giantesses... I really am 5'10" in my bare feet and I like cute shoes and tall men. Short men don't do anything for me at all, and believe me I've given it the old college try. So you can see what's coming... "Got a question for ya, Eddie. How tall are you?" Now, guys under 6'4" tend to add at least an inch to their height (same way girls over 120 drop 20 pounds every time), so when I hear 5'9", this is over for me, seriously. Unfortunately, Eddie thinks we've made a connection and is still fighting his cause. He wants to know do I dance, because he likes to take his women dancing, and sometimes we have to just not get everything on our wish list wah wah wah, wah wah... hello Charlie Brown's teacher! Seriously. I'm beginning to believe in matchmaking, because if this is what's left out there, I need a few more cats!
The nail in the coffin for poor Eddie, though, was when he called Tuesday morning and sounded genuinely surprised that I was working. To his credit, though, after I blew off calling him back that night he really did get the hint and hasn't called since... and while Eddie will never get the chance to be Mr. Yearbook Girl, he definitely so far gets the award for most creative pickup to date!