Looking At Girls Through Beer Goggles

, , , | Romantic | February 2, 2020

(When I am seventeen, I decide to try to break out of my shell and go out to a fancy-dress street party organized for Carnival in the harbour of my town. I step into the crowd and dance. Soon after doing so, I see a couple of girls looking at me with interest, and after some more dancing I decide to make a move.)

Me: “Hi there!”

Girl: “Hi, would you buy me a drink?”

(While I have heard about offering a drink to somebody else, I have never heard of the opposite, but I immediately assume it means she wants in my pants.)

Me: “Sure, let’s get in line at the shack. What would you like to drink?”

Girl: “Oh, anything’s fine.”

(Since I’m not big on drinking, and since the elderberry liquor I like isn’t popular, I’m a bit worried, but I keep my cool externally. Halfway through the line…)

Me: “Are you really sure that you’re fine with anything?”

Girl: “Of course I am!”

(And so we restart. After quite a bit of time, there are only four people in front of us.)

Me: “Anything in particular you want? They have a bit of everything.”

Girl: “Nah, your choice is all right.”

(Figuring I can’t hold up the line like that, I give up and decide to order a beer for her, as she slips out of the line and waits for me. Thanks to lax IDing, I buy a glass, pay a handsome amount of money for it, and then get back to her.)

Me: “Here we go, enjoy.”

(The girl looks at the glass full of beer as if it was full of urine. She frowns and makes it swish inside the glass before dumping it all in the water below the wharf.)

Girl: “I wanted a mojito.”

Me: *flabbergasted* “W-what? You said that ‘anything’ was fine!”

Girl: *whining* “But I wanted a mojito! Not beer, a mojito!”

Me: “Why didn’t you tell me that?! I asked you three times!”

Girl: “Why would I want beer? I can get that anywhere!”

(Resisting the urge to shove her off into the water, I stormed away and went home. To this day, I cannot understand why she couldn’t tell me what she wanted right away, instead of trying a weird mind game.)

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Being Poker-Faced About Your Feelings

, , , , | Romantic | December 25, 2019

(I work as a barber. I’m a young woman and I like to talk to my customers as I cut their hair. I have been friends with one who is just a few years older than I am since I was 17; we share a lot of the same hobbies and have some fun conversations while I work. In the beginning, I would have never thought of it due to the age difference — six years, which seemed like a lot when I was 17 — but recently I’ve been finding him to be very attractive. One particular visit, we’re talking about our plans for the weekend. Normally, we talk about video games or the like, but…)

Me: “So, what are you planning to do this weekend?”

Customer: “Oh… I wish I could game but I’m going up to [Local Casino] for a bachelor party. What are you going to be up to?”

Me: “Oh, I have maybe eight assignments for class and a final paper to finish! I’m probably going to pull at least one all-nighter this weekend.”

Customer: “Oh, no! Mine might not be what I enjoy, but at least it’s fun! How long until you finish up school again?”

Me: “This is my last class! Hopefully the last all-nighter, but we’ll see?”

Customer: “Well, at least you’re investing in your future! I hate casinos. I watched my parents throw away so much money at them. But [Friend] wants everyone to join him in a poker tournament.”

Me: “Ha! Well, at least you can invest anything you win right?”

Customer: “Well, maybe. Tell you what. If I win anything, I’ll come to take you out to dinner to celebrate finishing school, how about that?”

Me: *trying not to get excited, sarcastically* “As a broke college student, I will never say no to free food!”

Customer: “Haha! Be careful with that! I don’t want to come back and hear you’ve been lured into an unmarked van with candy like a child!”

(Jokes about me being young are common between us, so I assume this banter is more of the same. I finish his haircut and go about my weekend. On Monday however, I’m called to the front because a customer asked for me by name and I find him at the counter looking sheepish.)

Me: “Hi, [Customer]! What’s going on? Not happy with the cut?”

Customer: “Um… no… I mean… well…” *hands me a photo*

Me: “Is this… you… winning…”

Customer: “Yeah… That’s me winning the tournament… Apparently, looking like you’d rather be somewhere else makes people think you don’t know how to play poker at all… And well… I’m a man of my word, so… Would you like to go out to dinner this week?”

Me: *not hiding my excitement anymore* “YES!”

Customer: *startled slightly* “Oh? Oh! Okay! Well… Here, have my number and text me when you get off work?”

(I’m very excited for this dinner this weekend! I plan on telling him everything!)

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The New Student Teacher Is A Hit!

, , , , | Learning | December 18, 2019

(I am 22, but owing to my high voice, short stature, and general babyface, some mistake me for 15 or 16. I am a student teacher at a middle school. For those who don’t know, that means that I am a student at a university earning a teaching degree, but this semester I basically intern at the school and teach a few classes, observing the teacher for the rest of them. The teacher I normally work under is on a field trip which I declined to go on, so I am shadowing another teacher for today. He doesn’t really feel the need to introduce me, though, so I am sat in the back of the classroom, and for the most part, the students ignore me. There isn’t much room to sit, so I have to sit at one of the students’ desks, which is possible thanks to my aforementioned short stature. After the last class before lunch, a — very adorable — seventh-grader and two of his friends are talking in the corner. The boy’s friends seemed to be encouraging him to do something in my general direction, and eventually, he walks up to me.)

Boy: *very shyly* “Um… I know you’re new here… and I think you’re kind of cute… doyouwanttositwithusatlunchtoday?”

(It is worth noting that I am also quite awkward and not the best at conflict resolution.)

Me: “Oh… I’m actually 22. I’m a student teacher for–”

(The boy’s face and ears grew very red indeed and he ran out of the room. One of his friends ran after him, and the other one just stood there, silently laughing like a mime’s impersonation of a hyena. I walked up to the girl and asked her to apologise to her friend from me; in between giggles, she managed to accept my plea, and I walked out of the classroom towards the teachers’ cafeteria with my face pinker than that girl’s pink highlights. And that’s the story of how I was hit on by a kid nearly half my age.)

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Cheating On The Survey

, , | Romantic | October 9, 2019

(I have been filling out a survey with this customer over the telephone, with a little small talk in between questions.)

Customer: “You sound very attractive. Where do you live?”

Me: *gives vague geographical region*

Customer: “Oh, that’s a little far for me to travel, too bad.”

Me: “Okay, last questions! Marital status?”

Customer: “Married!”

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Grunts, Love, And Coffee

, , , , , , , , | Romantic | September 6, 2019

(It’s 1997. I’m 20 years old and have recently moved back to my home city after a horrible breakup. I take a job selling electronics at a local mall retailer. During my first week, I keep hearing about this one guy who’s going to handle the bulk of my training. It’s silly, but it’s like I’m hearing bells whenever someone says his name — I just have a feeling about him. I find myself hoping he’s around my age and that he has blue eyes. We’re finally scheduled together on Saturday. I eagerly wait by the register for him to come in. Eventually, an unkempt man who looks like he’s in his 40s walks in. He’s balding and badly dressed, and he is sporting a very wimpy mustache that does nothing for him. My heart sinks when I see his nametag and realize it is the guy I’ve been so looking forward to meeting. So much for romance; he is way too old for me! But hey, I’ve still got to work with this guy, and by all accounts, he is really nice.)

Me: *brightly* “Good morning!”

Guy: *wordless grunt*

(He walks past where I’m standing without even a glance in my direction and turns the TV in our department on to Saturday morning cartoons, ignoring me.)

Me: “…”

(A commercial break eventually comes on and he walks over to me. I’m thinking we’ll finally exchange pleasantries.)

Guy: *in a harsh voice, and without preamble* “Did you count out that register?!” 

Me: “I… didn’t know I was supposed to.”

Guy: “Well, it’s a good thing I closed last night, so I know exactly how much is in there.”  

Me: *stunned at his rude tone* “Um… okay. Do you want me to count it out now?” 

Guy: “No. I’m going for a cup of coffee.” 

(He about-faced and stalked off. A teeny part of me hoped that maybe he’d bring me back a cup, as a sort of apology for his jerky attitude. He did not, and stood around the department drinking it in front of me, glowering. Later that day, he made me laugh so hard that soda shot out of my nose. I realized then that even if my instincts were wrong and this wasn’t the man of my dreams, he was still a good candidate for a work friend. I eventually learned that he was only 26 years old, and the main reason for his haggard and disheveled appearance was that his father, a single parent, had died the year before, and every penny he made went to paying the mortgage on the family house while he also went to college full-time. He was smart, very funny, and kind, and we had a lot of interests in common. And his eyes were, in fact, an amazing shade of hazel that changed from blue to green to brown depending on the light and his mood. He grew back the goatee that he’d recently been told to shave off, which he preferred and which suited him much better than the wimpy mustache by itself, de-aging his appearance quite a bit. We became really good friends and then fell in love. We married five years later and are still blissfully happy. According to him, he’d had a feeling about me, as well, and was really looking forward to our meeting, but finally seeing me caused something to disconnect between his brain and his mouth, so all that fell out was rudeness. All these years later, he still makes a point of going out to buy me a cup of coffee on the anniversary of that day and serving it to me with a grunt.)

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