J and I were sitting on the couch when he said “Oh, something weird happened to me at work today.”
Then he proceeded to tell me that while he was in the break room, a girl walked in, looked at him and said “You have a perfect face.”
He said he was a bit flustered by that so he asked her what she meant, thinking maybe she was talking about something scientific like symmetry or standard deviations of beauty or whatever magazines mention about that sort of thing.
And she responded “You have a perfect face. You’re very attractive and you have beautiful eyes.”
I mean, I am not disagreeing with any of these statements on account of how I also thought these things about this same guy and then went about getting said guy to marry me, albeit in a much more subtle manner because I was not a brazen little minx.
Just kidding. I asked him on a date in his high school yearbook. I was totally a brazen little minx.
(Also he turned me down but look how that all worked itself out in the end.)
I said “Well, that wasn’t weird so much as it was a really direct way to hit on someone. And kind of a terrible pick up line.”
Let me tell you how cute my husband is. I know, that sort of saccharine totally makes you want to keep reading, doesn’t it? Sure it does. Anyhow, my husband was all “Oh, you think she WAS hitting on me? I thought maybe but then I thought no, probably not.”
And then I was like “SHE SAID YOU HAVE A PERFECT FACE. SHE BASICALLY OFFERED TO HAVE YOUR BABIES.”
Because I always have to explain to my husband when people are flirting with him due to the fact that he just assumes everyone is being super nice to him. This is what happens when you marry a handsome guy who is fairly shy and also really nice to people.
I, on the other hand, never get hit on. Seriously, never. I’ll just assume this is because my radiant beauty makes me seem unapproachable to men.
It could also be due to the fact that I am regularly mistaken for a middle schooler. In fact, come to think of it, the last person that asked me for my phone number was literally a sixteen year old boy. Two years ago. It was slightly mortifying.
Yesterday, however, after hearing about my husband getting hit on for the billionth time, I took Scarlette to the grocery store. And the man getting a grocery cart next to me hit on me.
Only what he said was so dirty that I can not type it out on this family friendly website I own.
I’m always seeing stories on the internet of girls talking about having to deal with things like lewd catcalls and maybe it’s because I’m fairly plain or because I live in the country surrounded by a bunch of polite southern boys but that sort of thing has literally never happened to me.
Until yesterday.
As it turns out “You have a perfect face” is not such a terrible pickup line after all.
