Stay-At-Home Mom
Remember a year and a half ago? When I removed staples from my friends' floor? Because they were getting their hardwoods refinished?
So I'm at the bar about a month ago. Because, honestly? Where else would I go? I'm sitting there with Linda and Jocelyn. This is Jocelyn's first time really going out since she had her first child. She keeps saying, "I have to be home by 9:30." It is about 11 by this time.
There's a table of guys across the way. They aren't bad-looking. One's kind of cute.
Jocelyn, in an effort to recapture her misspent youth, calls the guy over. And he comes. A wealth of uncomfortable conversation ensues. However, he is cute. And funny. And employed. And decently dressed. And not employed in law enforcement. All the things I'm currently looking for in a man.
And he seems...into me, strangely enough. It had been so long since someone had actually chatted me up in a bar, I almost didn't know what to do. Or how to act.
He asked what we did for a living. We go around the table, giving answers. I thought Jocelyn might shrivel up and die when forced to admit that she is a stay-at-home mom. I had to give her credit. I was waiting for "personal shopper" or "set designer" to pop out of her mouth. I wouldn't have pimped her out. I don't think.
So we ask what he does. He owns a floor-finishing company.
Jocelyn's eyes get wide. "You own *insert name of company*?"
"Yeah," he answers.
"You did our floors. Over at *insert address*."
"Oh yeah!"
"She ripped up those staples," she says, pointing at me.
We laugh.
"Hey," Jocelyn says, drinking her overpriced beer. "You live with your girlfriend, don't you?"
"Uh, no," the guy says, clearly uncomfortable.
"Yeah, yeah you do. You live at *insert address* with her. My husband drives by your house all the time."
So not only has she outed herself and her husband as crazy stalkers of their floor guy, she has effectively thrown a wrench into any further conversation I could possibly have with this guy.
The conversation winds down and he leaves. Obviously. No numbers exchanged. No meaningful looks exchanged.
He doesn't live with his girlfriend, we later learned, although he may still be dating her.
He may, however, have his own stay-at-home mom parked across the street, watching every move he makes.
So I'm at the bar about a month ago. Because, honestly? Where else would I go? I'm sitting there with Linda and Jocelyn. This is Jocelyn's first time really going out since she had her first child. She keeps saying, "I have to be home by 9:30." It is about 11 by this time.
There's a table of guys across the way. They aren't bad-looking. One's kind of cute.
Jocelyn, in an effort to recapture her misspent youth, calls the guy over. And he comes. A wealth of uncomfortable conversation ensues. However, he is cute. And funny. And employed. And decently dressed. And not employed in law enforcement. All the things I'm currently looking for in a man.
And he seems...into me, strangely enough. It had been so long since someone had actually chatted me up in a bar, I almost didn't know what to do. Or how to act.
He asked what we did for a living. We go around the table, giving answers. I thought Jocelyn might shrivel up and die when forced to admit that she is a stay-at-home mom. I had to give her credit. I was waiting for "personal shopper" or "set designer" to pop out of her mouth. I wouldn't have pimped her out. I don't think.
So we ask what he does. He owns a floor-finishing company.
Jocelyn's eyes get wide. "You own *insert name of company*?"
"Yeah," he answers.
"You did our floors. Over at *insert address*."
"Oh yeah!"
"She ripped up those staples," she says, pointing at me.
We laugh.
"Hey," Jocelyn says, drinking her overpriced beer. "You live with your girlfriend, don't you?"
"Uh, no," the guy says, clearly uncomfortable.
"Yeah, yeah you do. You live at *insert address* with her. My husband drives by your house all the time."
So not only has she outed herself and her husband as crazy stalkers of their floor guy, she has effectively thrown a wrench into any further conversation I could possibly have with this guy.
The conversation winds down and he leaves. Obviously. No numbers exchanged. No meaningful looks exchanged.
He doesn't live with his girlfriend, we later learned, although he may still be dating her.
He may, however, have his own stay-at-home mom parked across the street, watching every move he makes.
posted by Miss Head at
8:06 AM
1 Comments:
my favorite moment was when he said something (trying to redeem himself) and I replied "whatever girlfriend guy". I may have even held my hand up to his face. ugh. Just call me cock blocker, which is a much better variation of my nickname in college.
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Anonymous, at 4:46 AM
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