Third Time's the Charm

So this post goes out to a guy named Rick (I changed the name just in the highly unlikely chance that Rick ever stumbles upon this blog... although I'm sure he'll still know who he is).

The tale starts on a bright, sunny July morning in the summer of '08. That was a good summer for Eugene, what with the Olympic trials going on. There were people everywhere, and it wasn't uncommon to bump into a stranger and make small talk about the trials, particularly when you live about 2 blocks off campus, which I did at the time.

One morning my coworker Alice and I decided to meet at Allann Bro's coffee and carpool to work together. I got there early enough to buy my latte and scone, and as I was walking toward the door, a guy approached me from my right. Assuming he was looking at something on my other side, I kept walking until he said, "You look really familiar." I stopped, to see if he was talking to me, and he was so I said, "Oh yeah?" He proceeded to ask me if I had taken any classes at Lane, and when I told him no, that I went to the U of O, he asked if I was in the business school there because he was certain that we had taken a class together. I told him no, that I was an English student, and made my way toward the coffee shop. "So what's your name?" I heard form behind me. Wow, he's persistent, I think, and tell him my name is Charlotte. "I'm Rick." Insert awkward, limp handshake.. He proceeded to ask me if I'd ever like to go to coffee, and I told him no, but thank you very much.

So that was it, nothing too entirely out of the ordinary, although it seemed clear that he was really working hard to come up with a place we'd met. I laughed about it for a little while and that was it. End scene.

We pick up over a year later at the Safeway on 18th. Charlotte is looking for tampons, of all things, and is approached from behind. "You look really familiar... have you taken any classes at Lane?" Suddenly I flash back to that summer day, and I can't imagine it's the same person but I turn around and sure enough, there he is. He's even wearing the same backwards hat. I laugh a little, smile, and shake my head, "Nope." He proceeds to go through the same conversation we had two summers earlier, and I'm just dying inside. It ends the same as it did before, although this time I have a boyfriend so I include that in my gentle refusal. When I get home, I'm telling the story to a few girls in my house, and one of my housemates starts to freak out. "I saw that guy too! Just down the street! He used the same line on me!" We laugh and laugh, and, again, I think that's the end, forget about it eventually, and don't give it much thought again.

You might think that's as ridiculous as this story can get. Same guy, a year and a half later, using the same line on multiple girls in the same day. Pretty unreal. But no, the story continues.

Last week, I'm shopping at Fred Meyer for ingredients for pumpkin bread. I'm in a kind of sad mood because I had just found out I didn't get a job I had applied for, so I'm planning on baking my sorrows away before throwing a Christmas party that night. As I debate about which festive paper plates to buy, I see a guy in my peripheral. I had noticed a guy behind me when I walked in the door, but didn't think much of it. However, this is definitely the same red coat. I play dumb and act Really interested in the paper plates. But sure enough, I hear the words that I know are coming: "You look really familiar! Have you ever taken any classes at Lane?" I'm dying at this point. A lot of strange things have happened to me, but this is just absolutely absurd. My first instinct is to say, "The reason I look familiar is that we've had this conversation before... twice." But as I run it through my head, I realize I don't know his story and don't want to say anything terribly rude because he's basically harmless. So instead I just have the same conversation one last time. "I'm Rick, would you maybe want to go to coffee sometime?" Less gently this time, "No thank you, have a nice day," and I turn back to my paper plates. Poor Rick.

Needless to say, the rest of my shopping trip is spent trying to suppress raucous laughter. God must have a sense of humor.

An introduction...

This blog is dedicated to my friend Brad.

- - -

I have come to the conclusion that I must carry myself in a very approachable, welcoming manner because I know plenty of women much better looking than myself that do not have nearly as many ridiculous stories as I do about absurd interactions with what I can only describe as "creepy men."

It started back in high school when I was 16 and working at Dairy Queen. In retrospect, it's pretty hard to believe that anyone would ever think that the drive-thru window of a fast food burger joint was an appropriate or effective location for picking up on teenage girls: "So that was 2 medium cookie dough blizzards and a large fry. Anything else for you today?" Response- "Yeah, your phone number maybe?" Keep in mind that this was over the intercom; the guy can't even see me at this point so it has nothing to do with my looks. He's just a creep. Later I would be described as a "better looking version of Lisa Loeb" (some 90's indie musician I had to Google, and the only reason I look like her is my glasses) and still later a middle aged man would ask me if I was engaged and when I responded with an emphatic "No" he would respond with, "So you're available then?"

Switching jobs from fast food to drive-thru coffee did not serve to alleviate the awkward encounters with men. If anything, working alone in a small coffee kiosk made it even worse. There were the men driving the Mustang convertible who offered to pick me up after work to go for a ride. There was the guy who walked across the parking lot from the Arby's to invite me to a party, and then sent his friend over to tell me I was cute. However, I think the best/worst story from my time at Coffee Rush was a truck driver. Due to the large size of his 18-wheeler, this older gentleman parked his rig and walked up to the window. While I was getting his coffee he leaned in the window to chat, which was a little awkward, but not terribly abnormal for walk-up customers. As I approached the window to give him his drink, he asked me to turn around so he could see the back of my shirt. Now, before you go telling me that I walked right into this one, let me say that the shirt I was wearing was black with hot pink, sparkly words on it, so I really did think he wanted to see what it said. Like a naive little fool, I turned around and let him "read the back of my shirt." He mumbled, "You something something something." Not really hearing what he said but knowing it was in a positive tone, I proceeded to nod and smile, agreeing with him, "Yeah!" He laughed and asked me if I had actually heard what he said. When I embarrassingly admitted that I hadn't, he repeated, much more slowly and clearly, "You have a really nice ass." Absolutely mortified, I thanked him, told him to have a nice day, and made a point to find some remedial task to take care of, so as to end the business transaction gone terribly wrong. After he had driven away, I noticed he had tipped me $5.

Now some of you may be wondering why I mentioned my friend Brad. It's because he has a fanatic, if somewhat bizarre, obsession with hearing stories about my awkward encounters with strange men. He has been telling me for a couple years to write a book of all these stories. While I am not going to such great lengths to share the hilariously ridiculous situations I have found myself in, I will start posting them to this blog, so that somewhere they will live on, recorded for his reading pleasure.