I’m Sexy and I Know It

So a weird thing happened to me today:

I think I was hit on. I can’t say for sure because I haven’t been hit on in a really long time. I believe the last person who hit on me was my husband, and we’ve been together over 10 years.

I was driving to a Zumba class and stopped at a red light. A truck pulled up beside me in the left hand lane, and the guy in the passenger seat knocked on his door to get my attention. I looked over, and he smiled and wiggled his fingers at me. At first, I thought oh that’s so and so…wait, who is that?  Did I know him? Nope. My brain’s facial recognition scan came up short so I asked him, all puzzled-like, “Do I know you?” And he shook his head no and I said “Oh, okay” and the light turned green, and I took off to him shouting “I was being polite.”

Weird right? I am by no means a head turner. I never was, and now that I’m nearing middle age, my interaction with the opposite sex has been mainly of the “here you go, ma’am” kind. I can’t show you what I really look like since I’m all about shielding my true identity on this blog, but I somewhat resemble her:

This is the crazy cat lady from The Simpsons

Well, I was wearing my workout clothes so this best represents what I looked like at the time of the alleged pick up:

Replace the unitard with a ratty T-shirt and sweatpants and you’re golden.

Now, I’m not saying I’m blahsville to elicit any “What are you talking about?!? You’re so pretty, You go grrlll!” kind of responses in the comment area (but please post them if you feel an unbelievable urge, and make sure the grrlll has the adequate number of r’s and l’s), I’m painting a realistic picture so you can help me decipher this gonzo interaction. I have a toddler who woke me up at 4:45 this morning, and I look like that happens on a daily basis. I’m also just generally unapproachable because I cover myself in barbed wire to protect against unexpected hugs or spontaneous displays of jocularity.

I’ve never been really good at reacting to pick up lines. In my 20′s I was the girl scowling in the corner, waiting for the cab she called to come pick her up and take her away from the nightmare known as “the club scene.” If a gentleman happened to try his magic line on me, I normally responded with a guffaw and then ran and hid in the ladies room.

So I’m not quite sure what pick-up truck man intended. Was he just being polite? Do people still wave and smile at total strangers just to let them know that we’re all in this soon-to-be zombie apocalypse together? Or was he trying to car jack me?

It is a mystery.

But what I do know is tomorrow I will be doubling up on the barbed wire.

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30 comments

  1. My first takeaway here: Speaker7 takes a Zumba class. I can’t remember the last time I got hit on but I’m pretty sure I had no idea what was happening at that moment.

    The last time I went to a club I think Ace of Base was being played.

    1. I know it seems incongruous for me to take Zumba, but I am a sucker for any new exercise regime. I owned a thightmaster and an ab roller. I have banned myself from watching exercise infomericals because I will buy it.

  2. Gttrrrrrtttl. That’s supposed to be one of those grrls but my thumbs are too big. He was into ur biznatch plain and simple. I understand ur lack of understanding. Back when I was playing on ur softball team, the coed one, I never knew I was being hit on unless the chorizo was on the deli counter so to speak. So there u have it. Put the creeper in ur self confidence bank for later and make sure u drive w the doors locked. Xo, sm

  3. First of all, the crazy cat lady from the Simpsons’ head on that 80′s aerobic woman’s body should be on display in the MOMA. Well done. And secondly, the behaviour of strange men who drive pickup trucks in certain random cities is enough to make your skin crawl, and cause you toare lock all ofi your car doors while you’re driving at least three times….. and GRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLL, you knows those ratty sweat pants is sexy.

    1. I have also been subject to just random yelling when walking down the street…75 percent of the time it’s random crazy weird guy and 25 percent it’s me.

      1. Does that mean that %25 of the time you hit on random men while they sit in their cars at stop lights minding their own business while driving to their Zumba class, subconsciously praying that no random creepy strangers hit on them? … isn’t it funny how backwards that sounds. Hmmm.

  4. What are you talking about?!? You’re so pretty, You go grrlll! Or something.

    He was probably hitting on you. It was lame, but that’s what he was doing.

  5. The other day, I was carrying my 3 year old home from the grocery store, so I had this lug of a kid on my hip and two bags of groceries in my other arm when these two old dudes whistled at me from the shade of their front porch. My first instinct, as always, was to stare them down with my best stern librarian look of disapproval, but then they surprised me by following up with, “You’ve got some crazy upper-body strength there, little lady!” Yeah, you know it, grrrllll. My biceps bring all the boys to the yard.

    1. Holy cow! I’m impressed by your arm strength. I lug around a 35-pound toddler and I can make about 20 feet before my guns start shaking. I would have been whistling at you too.

  6. Obviously, you were being hit on, because you are a Hottie McHotterton. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllllllllllll.

    The last time I was hit on was when I was eight months pregnant, standing in line to buy a hamburger with my husband. It was a truly bizarre experience.

  7. the last time i thought i was being hit on while driving my car – my gas cap was hanging from the tank. but, i’m sure you were actually being hit on. and i love his pick up line. “i was being polite.” so kind…..a teensy bit creepy, but kind, too.

  8. I’ve gotten a few car waves recently and I’m as perplexed as you. I know I was dressed like a scrub those days. I don’t get it one bit. Maybe they do it for entertainment purposes. It’s not like they’re gonna get anything out of it. You can’t exactly get someone’s number while driving down the highway.

  9. I once took a Zumba class but was thrown out when they saw the AWESOMENESS of my hip thrust. Jealous biatches.

    Seriously, that picture of you in the leotard…so sexy.

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