Blog Thread, some dude tried to pick me up in a bookshop this evening. A stone cold stranger hit on me. It was terrifying. This is not something that has ever happened to me. This is the first actual time (not including the homeless guy who asked me what colour my pubic hair was at the busstop once).
He looked like the Old Spice Guy. But with hair. When he spoke, he sounded like the Old Spice Guy. Except not on a computer. "May I compliment you?" he asked my back.
"Oh, uh, sorry, yeah," I turned and sort of giggled once I figured out what he said.
"Seriously, you look amazing."
"Oh. Thanks."
He told me his story in a nutshell (just moved here, studying music) and offered his hand.
I shook it, terrified.
He asked me some questions about myself but I think I just sort of blew them off with monosyllables. What do I do what do I do my internal monologue said frantically.
After a minute I managed to sort of shuffle away from him to the other side of the bookshop. I hoped I hadn't moved to the Erotica section. This bookshop has a rather large one.
Old Spice Guy With Hair appeared behind me again. "Taken?" he murmured cheekily.
"Yes," I said firmly, without looking up. I slid over to the Graphic Novels and set up camp on the floor.
When I looked up again he was gone.
Phew.