Now, I’m sure this comes as no surprise to those reading, but I have never been one to be fawned over in real life. In internet life – sure, on occasion, but real life hitting on hasn’t been too frequent. Which is absolutely fine because I am already socially awkward, so adding in a stranger holla-ing at me and things get super awkward super fast. On occasion though, some strange man will decide I strike his fancy. When we used to go out, this might happen at a bar, but most often I get attention when I am oblivious and unkempt.
Take, for instance, the first time I got a physical phone number. Earlier this year I was waiting to see someone about unemployment and the security guard upstairs phoned the security guard downstairs to give me his (upstairs guy’s) phone number on my way out. Never mind that I’m obviously unemployed and poor, I had to wake up super early to get there, so I wasn’t looking my best. I know for a fact I didn’t even brush my hair that day, because I was so amazed at getting the phone number, I made note of how bad I was looking.
I’ve also gotten hit on on the bus a few times, most of these times being on the way home from work. And I’ve had some labor intensive jobs so not only did I look tired, I probably looked all gross and sweaty. Yet something in this appeals to the creepers that decide to hit on me.
This is all a lot of back story to lead up to what I was told today.
Now, as you know, yesterday I went to the dentist and got a tooth pulled. I knew the day was going to suck, so I dressed comfortably in jeans and a hoodie. I had to come to work afterwards, so thank the fsm my work dress code is non-existent.
So the extraction didn’t go remotely as planned and was a horrible experience I’ll write about later. I cried the entire time and even a bit afterwards because I was in so much pain.
So imagine me sitting at work yesterday. Hoodie and a messy ponytail, makeup mostly cried off, huge wad of gauze in my mouth, bloodshot eyes, and I had taken a pain killer but was unable to eat, so also add the fact that I’m basically a zombie.
Lovely mental image, no?
Flash to this morning when my coworker leans over to my desk.
“You know Dude Guy?”
“That came by yesterday with that metal cart?”
“Oh, okay, yea.”
“Well, I got an email from Other Guy yesterday asking me ‘How old is Katrina, does she have a boyfriend, and do you think she’d go out with Dude Guy.”
“I told him too young, yes and she lives with him.”
“Yea, the email said not to mention it to anyone, but I was telling my daughter last night and she said that I HAD to tell you.”
Which on one hand, I’m glad she told me, but on the other hand, AWKWARD! The guy in question works in the building somewhere but I have no idea where and he only comes by every once in a while, but still. He, like everyone in this office is at least 10 years older than me, if not more. And I look 17! And I was a complete wreck yesterday.
I just kept repeating “ohmygoddd” to my co-worker and she was like “I could tell. I knew yesterday even before I got that email.” Which either she is super good at reading people or I am even more oblivious that I previously thought.
Hello, awkward police?