I went out with new friend, L, last night. When she came to my house to transfer over to my car (she drove last time we went out), my neighbor was out sweeping her steps. When she saw me, she said, "wow, you're smokin' tonight!" Of course she's only ever seen me in lawn-mowing mode and bedraggled after-work mode, so seeing me with smoky eyes, blonde curls, a crisp white buttondown showing some cleavage, and a short skinny jean skirt with heels that made my legs look like they started at my chin was a bit of an eye opener for her. L told her I don't go out enough and my neighbor agreed and said she hoped the smokin' effect wreaked some havoc on the male gender. And it did, but so not the way I expected...
We went to a neighboring town's restaurant/bar for a late dinner and some beverages. The waitress was super sweet, the chicken tenders were super crunchy, and the drinks were super weak. I convinced L that staying for expensive weak drinks and bad Karaeoke (sp?) was not how I wanted to spend the rest of the evening so we left and moved on to another local hang out.
The drinks were better but the live band sucked ass, literally and figuratively. We sat and chatted and texted my best friend J in Florida. We ran into someone L knows and chatted with him for a while. One of the locals hit on L.
Next thing we know, this spiffily dressed - and when I say spiffy I mean SPIFFY, he had on a sparkly belt, rhinestone pins scattered on his shirt, rings practically on every finger, I swear I saw several earrings in one ear, coiffed white hair, those old-time shoes that look like a cross between fancy one-color bowling shoes and blue suede shoes but his were white - older man comes waltzing (and I do mean waltzing and if it wasn't waltzing it was skipping, or floating, or gamboling) into the bar and immediately (after equipping himself with a beer) starts buzzing around the women like a bee dipping into each flower. He asked each of them to dance, some nice ones took him up on his offer but most didn't. He buzzed around our table and stayed to talk A LONG time after we both politely said no to dancing. L left to go to the bathroom and the man stayed and proceeded to regale me with mini risque stories, drop one-liners like "if you can keep up with me till 5am, I treat you to breakfast", tell blonde jokes with the blonde always coming out on top "because we blondes need to stick together" (he considered his white hair his blonde ticket), compliment me, touch my arm high enough up to cop a fleeting feel of my boobie, put his hand on my knee or my shoulder, and while it sounds like harassment as I write it down, it was truly innocuous due to how light-hearted and in the moment he was, and it wasn't threatening or icky. It was more like Puck in human form having a blast amongst the women-flowers. (He reminded me alot of Gpa out skating.) Anyhoo. After he left our table one time (he came back numerous times), these other two guys asked us if he was bothering us. We said no and they said he comes out all the time, looking to dance up a storm, in fact his local nickname is "Geezer Pimp" coz of all the bling he wears and his propensity for women. So my smokin' appearance led to being hit on by 78 year old Geezer Pimp!
Next up, much later in the evening, a man comes up and asks if we'd dance with his friend who's going off to Iraq in three days. Both L and said we weren't dancing but they were welcome to sit at our table with us. They came over and proceeded to joke and overshare - it was that time of night. Both of them were Navy, one was 21 and the other was 22 years old, and both were finding Maine an experience. First Guy was from California and had never experienced 50degree temps and saw snow for the first time last winter. Second Guy hailed from Ohio and it turns out his brother is attending my alma mater. How funny is that? First Guy said he was feeling funny about wearing shorts out to the bar because back in Cali you wear long pants out clubbing. I told him there is no clubbing in Maine, it's bar hopping and shorts are norm. L used the word "wicked" to describe something and they just about fell out of their chairs. First Guy said in Cali they say "hella" for "wicked". So we all had to come up with funny hella and wicked phrases with me topping the fun using the F-bomb. First Guy thought I was a riot and told me so several times. After much double meaning and risque talk, the bar was closing and we decided to walk over to another bar and see if there were going to be any fights. There weren't but First Guy offered to go back to my place and "do a little sumpin' sumpin'." I thanked him for his kind offer but had to decline as I was interested in someone else's sumpin' sumpin'. And so my smokin' appearance led to be hit on by a 22 year old.
Go figure, I was hit on by someone who could be my grandfather and by someone who could be my son all in the same night. Now that's got to be good for a drinking game.
