Caring is Creepy
The hormonal shifts didn’t end with the cold sores. I have a zit between my eyes that will need its own area code shortly. A zit so large and overbearing that it prompted my husband to ask, “Holy shit, what is that between your eyes? Did you get hit with something?”
Sigh.
Despite the Zit That Blocks My Vision, I got hit on tonight for the first time in ages. Traffic was backed up on Rte 128 to a crawl, and sitting in traffic was akin to the proverbial and pathetically overdone parking lot. Normally I’m not a fan of driving down the highway with the windows open – with the Bangs From Hell, I literally go blind from the whipping hair in my eyeballs. When driving at 15 mph or less, however, the rogue bangs are no longer an issue, and I can enjoy the scent of burnt rubber and blazing tarmac to my osmic delight while listening to loud music and regaling fellow drivers with stellar, personalized renditions of The Shins and Rufus Wainwright.
During a particularly impassioned performance of Damien Rice’s ‘Volcano,’ I felt someone watching me. A glance to my right revealed it was a man around my age or younger, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a visor. Let me say for the record that I hate visors. Who wears a visor? A VISOR. Creeps wear visors. Men who were in fraternities and actually agreed to do the elephant walk wear visors, of this I am convinced.
“Hey!” He actually shouted.
“Um, yes?”
“Was that the Garden State soundtrack you were listening to earlier?”
Why yes it was, but that was a FULL THIRTY MINUTES AGO, which meant that this creep was kind of musically stalking me.
Ewww.
“Uhh…”
“Hey, this is kind of odd, but you seem nice [BASED ON WHAT?] and would it be weird if I asked for your phone number?”
“Uhhhhh. Yes. Yes, it would be weird.”
I mean, wouldn’t it? What kind of person says “Yes, take me now?” We’re DRIVING, for chrissake. Not to mention the fact that I’m married – I mean, it goes without saying that “I’m married,” should have been the most logical response, but I didn’t want him to think that the fact that I’m married was the ONLY REASON I was turning him down. He violated my drive time. Listened to the music I was listening to, and COMMENTED ON IT. Sure, it was blaring, BUT STILL.
Is nowhere sacred?
10 comments July 28th, 2005