tavie.com

A man unmistakably hit on me yesterday. I was walking to the gourmet deli where I habitually take my lunch, walking down the street, and a man sort of fell in step beside me and started talking as if we had been walking together. He was short, balding, heavily accented, at least 15 years my senior, and had an unpleasantly intense gleam in his eye.

"Is beautiful weather for a picnic?" he purred.

I nodded. "Gorgeous weather today."

"You go on a picnic?"

"No, not at the moment."

"You should go on picnic. One day, I walk to school and is so boring, and my friend says, 'Come with me' and we go on drive and it was, I not kidding, the most fantastic day! I tell you the truth, it is like no other experience, no planning, just go on picnic! You go on picnic?"

"Not today."

"You Irish?"

"Pardon me?"

"You are Irish?"

"Nope."

"Where you from?"

"Here, New York."

"You live around here?"

I am growing increasingly uncomfortable.We are in front of the deli. I want my smoked turkey salad. "No, I work around here."

"Ah. I hope we meet again, yes! I hope to see you around!"

"Okay." I disappear in the deli.

Irish?

And yet part of me thinks, Oh, well, damn. Now when Kirsten complains that she can't walk down the street without being whistled at, I can't sigh, "I don't have that problem, no one ever looks at ME that way". At least someone was looking.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:02 PM | shower me with attention