i love me a big round ass
The farmer's market in oakland is perhaps one of my favorite places to be on a Saturday morning. On my walk down there, I passed a number of people and smiled the small-half-smile I reserve for strangers unless they have something great like a dog or a baby. A runner passed me going the other way, and and he smiled back and I started thinking about how many smiles we have and who they're meant for, and I wondered if mine seemed forced or in any way unnatural.. i bet it does. So i was thinking about that when the runner (just a kid, really!) appeared back at my side, keeping pace with me as I walked:
Him: Hey how are you?
Me: Good. How are you?
Him: Good! Hey this may sound a little awkward <looks down> but would you like to walk around the lake with me?
I could have missed something.. maybe it was actually..
"...would you like to walk around the lake with me.... because i love me a big, round ass!"
or
"...would you like to walk around the lake with me.... so that my gang of friends hiding in the urine-stenched tunnel under International can grab you, assault you, and leave your lifeless body where no one will ever, ever find it.
But there was no obvious weirdness or malice. Just a clear invitation for voluntary social interaction. I don't know if you could call that being 'hit on', because there was nothing 'hit'-like about it. And of course it's not being asked 'out' because I was already 'out' and so was he. So it's a third form, something different, direct and still somehow timeless and sweet.
(I turned him down)
Comments
That was a great story. It really was a story, one of those 250 to 500 word stories that I would write for a contest in high school. It awakens the imagination and describes setting in a way that it unfolds before you. Of course the ending was the most powerful, and it makes me wonder if you write it regretting you turned him down. It's obvious that you actually wonder how your life would have changed had you walked with him...
It's interesting that there's a lot of the kind of interaction on the internet of the very sort you just turned down. In a sense I'm offering a bit of myself and my time to you unsolicited by writing this right now.
Yeah, I call that "hit on". Cute story.
Schoonerhelm gets it right. Just by commenting, we are stopping and saying "you interest us". Especially the way it happens here on Vox.
Btw, when I went to Europe I was warned by every European I spoke to not to smile at any men, because they take it as foreplay. But I thought, screw that, I'm from the Midwest, I smile at everyone. It did draw some attention, but no harm done.
no.. really, you're probably right, it was a hit. but at the same time, being 'hit on' here is so often at the far ends of the spectrum.. a guy is either leering at you in a creepy stalker way, or he is so subtle about it you never know it was an invitation until a year later when he's fallen firmly into the friend-zone. It was nice to see something more classic. maybe his mother taught him!
I don't know if you could call that being 'hit on'...
Good Lord, what does it take for you to think you're being hit on? ::grin::