Something that makes me laugh without fail every single time it happens is when a random guy (often a construction worker or pubic works employee) utters some sort of come-on as I’m walking by, headed to work or where ever. Often, it’s just a simple “Hey, baby” or an enthusiastic “Good morning!”, maybe even with a tip of the ol’ hard hat in my direction. There’s also “Hey! Lookin’ goooo-oood!”. I had no idea that “good” had two syllables. And then there’s my personal favorite, the impeccably articulate “Hubba, hubba!!” (You’ll forgive my lack of surprise when I saw that the owner of this little gem boasted a slab of gold where a front tooth used to be.)
The most story-worthy incident so far, however, happened in the otherwise very safe and neutral Borders bookstore at Columbus Circle. In mid-November, I was browsing for Christmas gifts and as I reached towards the top shelf for the calendar of vintage images of Paris, I heard “excuse me” from behind me. For a split second, I considered ignoring it, but thought “have I turned into the stereotypical rude New Yorker already??” and so I dropped my arm and turned to find a most interesting-looking man staring at me.
His glasses were plastered against his distinctly egg-shaped face, sort of like wrap around sunglasses… except these were normal prescription glasses and the proximity of the lenses to his eyes made them look unusually huge and gave him the air of being permanently surprised. (Or permanently deranged – not really sure which.) The picture was completed by a shaved head, sweater zipped up tightly beneath his chin and a messenger bag slung diagonally across his chest.
He attempted a wavering smile and said “I like the color of your coat… it’s warm like caramel and … cardboard … and makes me think of nice things.” Wait, did he just say “cardboard”?? I thought this was shaping up to be pick-up line. He continues “So to reward you for wearing that coat, I decided to come up and talk to you”. Did he say “reward”? This is not going well. For either of us.
My standard strategy in situations such as these is to find a casual and innocuous way to quickly work two magic words into the conversation: “my boyfriend”. It’s generally failsafe. For example, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? I’m going to Dallas with my boyfriend” or “Do you think my boyfriend would like this book for Christmas?” or even the juxtaposition of a nice compliment with a relevant question, “You look like a man of style… Do you think this would be a good gift for my boyfriend?”
Right on cue, about 7 seconds after the B-word popped up and hung in the air between us, dripping with unspoken messages, he mumbled something like “well, it was nice to meet you” and disappeared into the New Age & Astrology section. Oh, by the way – I’m a Leo – it never would have worked!
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