I was totally minding my own business
"Are you looking at my butt?"
Me, stammering, instantly purple, "Uhh, um, no."
Him, smiling, "If you like what you see, go ahead, I don't mind." *WINKS*
Here are five minutes of the internal musings that followed after that situation occurred.
Minutes One and Two: MORTIFICATION
This is the part where I pretend I'm totally cool and not embarrassed at all and my face totally plays along by exploring the rainbow of all the red and purple shades in the spectrum. I give him a bashful smile which I'm sure communicates that I am blown away not only by his physical prowess, but also his schoolboy face, and charming nature. In reality I am just struck dumb with embarrassment because I am super smooth. There are no coherent thoughts at this point. Only the desire to flee. Because I handle emotion well.
Minute Three: SELF-RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION
|Needs some stretching.|
You betta streeeetch, boy.
* "wouldn't need that weight lifting belt" = I don't even know if this is true. But ELLIOTT doesn't use a belt because he practices stomach vacuuming, and if ELLIOTT said it, it's probably a law somewhere.
Minute Four: Sassy Responses
Four minutes out I'm actually really good for responses. Each response is
Minute Five: Joy. FREAKING Joy.
That guy just flirted with me. And I am 34. And it is 4:30 in the morning. And I have four kids. And I am
twenty a few pounds overweight. And I am wearing a mom ponytail. And I am sweating. I am in the meathead section and He. Just. Flirted. With. Me.
It's about d@mn time.
And all that is why girls are confusing.
Linking up with Clare at Fitting It All In.