Okay, I know I'm supposed to be talking about actual things that I actually didn't spend money on, but this was too good to keep to myself.
First, I need to explain the state of myself right now. Out of shape, hair about 3 MONTHS overdue and therefore very rat-brown, red eyes from constantly being around cat hair in the store.
And today. Gym hair, due to me choosing the gym over a blow-out. Bad make-up, due to almost being late for work. Split lip and red spots on face, due to dropping a bag of cat food on my face yesterday (don't ask). Hole in sweater, thanks to job hazards. Gross, too-big, old pants from Forever 21, due to non-laundry-doing husband. The list goes on.
So this (admittedly adorable) guy comes in, dressed in a 3-piece suit, carrying a briefcase.
"Wow, this is a store just for pets, huh?"
Nope, dude...it's really a fetish store in disguise. See? Fooled ya, haha!!
*Guy walks over to a rack of dog shirts, browses.*
"Anyway. I'm blahblahblah with blahblahblah company. Is your office manager or manager around?"
Yeah, right. I have learned well from my boss. Deny, deny, deny!!!
"Actually, not today. Sorry. "
*Hoping he picks Friday to come back and bug someone else.*
"Oh. Okay. I'll have to come back, then."
*Walks toward exit.*
*Without turning around, shouts:*
"You're beautiful, by the way!"
Yeah. Ha, hahaha, hahahahahaha. Seriously. If the fat, the bad outfit, the messy hair and makeup, and the cat-food-attacked face didn't stop him, why did the ring on my finger not?
I will never understand men.
Too bad, though. If I had been single, and he had actually had the balls to say it to me, and not the entire store, I might have given him my number. But I'm not, and maybe if I see him again I should set him straight so he doesn't miss his chance with a girl who actually is single.
Lindsay Clancy is on trial for strangling her three children, but her
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