As a single girl in the city I hear quite a few lines. As a southern belle I am some how obligated to be gracious. Sometimes they are obnoxious and other times they are flattering, but they are always entertaining. One of my very favorite lines happened while I was at a gas station.
I had just gotten out of my car when this kid, who was easily 18 years old, said, "Hey!! You're too pretty to be pumping your own gas" (gold) I laugh and then he says,"Do you want me to do that for you?" Never one to pass up the opportunity to let someone else pump my gas I tell him to go for it. As he is pumping my gas he says, "So, what year did you graduate?", which I know would only be asked by someone who was just out of high school. I kind of felt bad for the kid now, but I was also flattered. Who doesn't love being told they look younger (in this case MUCH younger) than they really are? My response: "Really?" to which he replies, "Yeah" with just little too much enthusiasm. I almost don't want to tell him at this point, but I laugh and say NINETEEN NINETY SEVEN... I lost him at nineteen I'm sure. The look of disappointment and embarrassment that flashed across his face was priceless. He managed to stutter, "Well, uh, your really pretty?" which was definitely more of a question than a statement of fact. He wasn't too sure if it was true now that I was so OLD. He finished pumping my gas, told me to have a nice day and walked back with his head hung low, full of shame, to his friend's truck who had been watching and waiting for him to score.
The lesson learned that day? It's always a good idea to practice the art of the pick up line, but it's even better to find a target audience of a suitable age.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tall Tales
Has there ever been a time when you suddenly remember something that you had obviously blocked out of your memory? Most of the time blocking things out serves as a way of self preservation, a way to cope. Several years ago I remembered a girl I was in elementary school with. I will call her AC. AC was sort of like the ugly duckling type, though I am not sure that she ever grew into the beautiful swan or not. She was odd and didn't have any friends really, but that didn't stop her mom from trying to make a few for her. AC's mom would call parents of students in my class to ask if they could come over. Unfortunately, my mother was one of the lucky ones that got such a call. She really didn't know how to say no, and with a house filled with 6 kids I am guessing she was thrilled to get rid of one for a night. So, I was begrudgingly sent to AC's house on, sadly, more than one occasion.
AC had a knack for spinning tales. She begged me to become her blood sister, which I thought was disgusting (purposefully rubbing our open wounds together? No thank you.). "But," she told me, "Lisa did it." Lisa was my best friend at the time. I couldn't believe that she would do such a thing, but AC was so convincing, so I finally agreed. I was no ones "blood" anything, but I knew enough to know how it was done. AC, on the other hand, did not. She went into the kitchen, where she found a butter knife, and began sawing across her wrist. Sawing and sawing and sawing, her arm turning bright red, but nothing happened. Clearly frustrated, she threw the knife back into the draw and stormed outside. I followed her, not really sure what else to do. I found her by the trash can outside where she proceeded to pick up various things, a broken piece of plastic, a stick, and kept sawing, but still nothing. Defeated, she went back into the house and I didn't have to explain to her mother why her 9 year old daughter slit her wrist.
On yet another miserable occasion, AC was jumping on her bed. Her mom came in and told her to stop, but she continued. I was sitting at a desk, bored, watching her jump, when she screamed grabbed her stomach and fell to the bed. I wasn't sure what was happening and after a few moments of silence I asked if she was ok. She responded, out breath from the horrific pain, "I'm fine. It was just a contraction." She then made mention of getting pregnant in the forest behind her house, pointing out the window where there stood only 3 trees and some more houses. Her mom was pregnant with twins at the time, so I guess they talked openly about the pregnancy and how it happens and what happens when a baby is born? Several months later AC was out of school with the chicken pox. The entire 4th grade class got the chicken pox thanks to AC, but when she came back to school she said to me at recess, "Hey Bethany, remember when I was out of school with the chicken pox?" Um, of course I do because I was out a few weeks after that with the same flesh eating disease... "Well, I really didn't have the chicken pox." Oh, really? "Yeah, the doctors decided I was too young to have the baby, so they transplanted the fetus from me to my mom. They figured she was already pregnant, so she could just have two babies." As a sheltered 10 year old I didn't THINK she was telling the truth, but she spoke with such conviction I wasn't sure. I said ok and went on my merry way. Fast forward a few more months to our classroom Valentine's day party. AC's mom had delivered the twins, a boy and a girl, a few months before and brought them to the party. AC got the little girl from her mom, walked over to me and said, "Bethany, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Sarah."
AC saw that story through, from beginning to end. I have to admire her abilities to spin a tale, and today, with the miracles of modern medicine and girls having babies at really young ages, I can't help but wonder if Sarah was AC's daughter... given birth to by her grandmother and living the life of a twin, who in reality is her cousin.
AC had a knack for spinning tales. She begged me to become her blood sister, which I thought was disgusting (purposefully rubbing our open wounds together? No thank you.). "But," she told me, "Lisa did it." Lisa was my best friend at the time. I couldn't believe that she would do such a thing, but AC was so convincing, so I finally agreed. I was no ones "blood" anything, but I knew enough to know how it was done. AC, on the other hand, did not. She went into the kitchen, where she found a butter knife, and began sawing across her wrist. Sawing and sawing and sawing, her arm turning bright red, but nothing happened. Clearly frustrated, she threw the knife back into the draw and stormed outside. I followed her, not really sure what else to do. I found her by the trash can outside where she proceeded to pick up various things, a broken piece of plastic, a stick, and kept sawing, but still nothing. Defeated, she went back into the house and I didn't have to explain to her mother why her 9 year old daughter slit her wrist.
On yet another miserable occasion, AC was jumping on her bed. Her mom came in and told her to stop, but she continued. I was sitting at a desk, bored, watching her jump, when she screamed grabbed her stomach and fell to the bed. I wasn't sure what was happening and after a few moments of silence I asked if she was ok. She responded, out breath from the horrific pain, "I'm fine. It was just a contraction." She then made mention of getting pregnant in the forest behind her house, pointing out the window where there stood only 3 trees and some more houses. Her mom was pregnant with twins at the time, so I guess they talked openly about the pregnancy and how it happens and what happens when a baby is born? Several months later AC was out of school with the chicken pox. The entire 4th grade class got the chicken pox thanks to AC, but when she came back to school she said to me at recess, "Hey Bethany, remember when I was out of school with the chicken pox?" Um, of course I do because I was out a few weeks after that with the same flesh eating disease... "Well, I really didn't have the chicken pox." Oh, really? "Yeah, the doctors decided I was too young to have the baby, so they transplanted the fetus from me to my mom. They figured she was already pregnant, so she could just have two babies." As a sheltered 10 year old I didn't THINK she was telling the truth, but she spoke with such conviction I wasn't sure. I said ok and went on my merry way. Fast forward a few more months to our classroom Valentine's day party. AC's mom had delivered the twins, a boy and a girl, a few months before and brought them to the party. AC got the little girl from her mom, walked over to me and said, "Bethany, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Sarah."
AC saw that story through, from beginning to end. I have to admire her abilities to spin a tale, and today, with the miracles of modern medicine and girls having babies at really young ages, I can't help but wonder if Sarah was AC's daughter... given birth to by her grandmother and living the life of a twin, who in reality is her cousin.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Paved or Rural
This summer I was able to visit the great state of Montana. It was a college reunion of sorts, a bunch of girlfriends getting together for a friend's wedding. We were asked by a rancher if we were paved or rural. A few laughed, not quite sure what he meant. I laughed because I did know what he meant. Enough of my life was spent in the "boonies" and enough has been in the city that I wasn't sure which one really applied. I chose both. I'm a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. I love all things Gone with the Wind, but would rather shop at Bloomingdales than Tractor Supply. My life is random and often entertaining and these are my stories.
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