Are You Hittin' On Me??

So, I'm sitting in the Honda service lobby for 3.5 hours yesterday, getting my husband's door lock fixed (that would be a new post entitled, "The Crap I Do For Other People.") After spending a half hour reading the Newsweek issue about Obama & His Faith, 5 minutes flipping through Entertainment Weekly (does anyone really care about the Simpson girls anymore?), and 15 minutes furtively reading all the sex articles in the latest Cosmo, I was pretty freakin' bored. For a while, I observed a 20-something dude with long hair reading "Crime and Punishment." I wanted to ask him if he was reading that for business or pleasure, but he didn't look very inviting. The rest of the crowd were chunky old men who looked like they had just pulled in with their golf carts and an older, well dressed Asian man who looked like he could very well be the CEO of Honda. I hope he was taking notes on my wait.

Anyway, after the first two hours, the place cleared out. It was just me, listening to the Complimentary Cafe girl talk to other employees about her boyfriend woes and how many calories are in the Otis Spunkmeyer oatmeal raisin cookies (240, if you must know - and what's with that brand name?) I'm sitting alone, when a man walks in and sits in the easy chair next to my loveseat. There were 8 other spots he could have occupied, but he chose to sit next to me and the 100 gallon fish aquarium. You see where this is going?

He read his newspaper for 5 minutes and then the fun began. First he started asking me how long I'd been waiting, then the questions moved on to my car's model, year and features (which made me feel like he was sizing me up, in a sexual way). The next thing I know, the guy is telling me he lives nearby and that he comes here often for the oil change. But I really didn't get suspicious until he began telling me things like, "I'm 50 years old and plan on retiring in 5 years," "I earn a really good living," and "I'm on call all the time." Ok - am I supposed to infer that you are a doctor or a plumber? And which is more appealing to me? My plumber charges more than $100/hour.

Fortunately, my name was called and I was able to escape before the guy could tell me he was good with his hands. Maybe my imagination got the best of me and the guy was really just making innocent conversation. I told faithful husband my story when I got home. His only comment was that he wasn't surprised, since the t-shirt I was wearing makes me look "busty."

Did I mention he's never been the jealous type?