Last night I stayed late for an event at the Theatre and as it was 15 degrees outside, I ended up checking people’s coats, and I just have one thing to say to you men. COOL IT WITH THE COLOGNE! I almost asphyxiated from the fumes in the coat room. Trust me, a little spray on the neck or some aftershave is all you need. It’s sexier if it doesn’t KNOCK US OVER WHILE WE ARE GAGGING FOR A SINGLE BREATH OF FRESH OXYGEN!

The event wasn’t ours so I was refusing tips as people picked up their coats to leave. Most people were fine with this of course, but it was a bit awkward to turn down dollar bills (“Wait… you’re saying you don’t WANT my dollar? But… but… it’s… it’s a WHOLE DOLLAR!”). Most awkward of all was the man who, when I refused his tip, insisted on getting me a glass of wine. Now, I had already had one glass of wine and did NOT need another one, as one glass of wine makes me nice and lusty, but TWO glasses of wine make me sleepy, and I wanted to bang my husband when I got home so I REALLY did not need another glass of wine. Plus, this guy doesn’t even know me. What if I don’t drink? What if I’m allergic to wine? What if I’m pregnant? But like he cared – he seriously would not take no for an answer and brought me back a glass of wine anyway. And then instead of leaving, he embarked upon a tale of his life that was SO long and SO boring that I felt like clawing my eyeballs out, but just nodded into my second glass of wine and THANK GOD I HAD THAT WINE TO SEE ME THROUGH.

I am a high strung, nervous natured person and I can live with this. But I think one reason for my nervousness is this: I’m hetero-phobic. I seriously don’t enjoy straight men nine times out of ten because it seems like they’re always either a) screaming on television that women who choose abortion are murderers; b) honking at me as I walk to work (what the hell?!!! Do you usually get good results that way? Do women often turn right around and flash you their tits? Or jump in the back of your sweet PICK UP TRUCK and scream “Take me wherever you’re going AS LONG AS THERE IS A BED INVOLVED!!! I almost had an orgasm when you HONKED AT ME!” ??); or c) they’re HITTING ON ME no matter how many times I flash that wedding ring. And maybe I’m wrong… maybe they’re not hitting on me; they’re just socially awkward and I seem like someone easy to practice on. Either way I have never known how to deal with that. I immediately turn blotchy red, starting with my chest and floating up to my ears in T-minus-three miserable seconds, and I start looking all around and stuttering, and then I get real mad cause I’m like oh my gosh, I’m a grown woman here with a life and ambition and a husband who I bonk several times a week thank you very much, and I am QUITE SATISFIED with who I am and WHAT THE HELL! All it takes is the man behind the Baja Fresh counter saying “hey, you want rice with th… (looking up) I mean… heeeyy. You want rice on that? Senorita?” And instead of rolling my eyes and acting like all that stuff I just said about being happy, strong, blah blah blah is actually true, I’m all “uh… um… wha? Rice? Yehh… Yeah. Um… yes. I mean, NO. Uh…” And then I come over to the table with Lance and bitch about it to him like “See that guy behind the counter? WHERE DOES HE GET OFF!?!?”

So I was proud of myself at Caribou Coffee the other day when I went in to get a cup of joe.
Me: “Hey. Can I get a small coffee with room for cream please?”
Awkward Barista: “Hey. Sure, you can get a small coffee.” (big smile)
Me: “uh… great. Thanks.”
Awkward Barista: “So, where’s that RANDOM GUY that comes in here with you sometimes?”
Me: “That random guy? That would be my husband.”
Awkward Barista: “oh… Let me get your coffee.”

SCORE!