Oh Why, Oh My

Somedays I wonder what will befall our next generation of single women. According to Cindy Guidry, the men have already become women and the women we've not really become men, we still need men - most of us. The reason I pity our upcoming generation of single women is not that I already lament our generation's pick of men - who knows maybe the next crop can pull it out of the bag, though given the scene that unfolded outside the Art Gallery on Friday night, likely not.

Now I have to preface this by saying I always find it amusing when men try to pick me up, more accurately I find it embarrassing, mortifying and normally find myself dumbstruck as to the reason and the method - which comes out as me laughing.

J and I were leaving our post dinner movie and walking to our respective bus stops when there was a group of young, and I emphasize young men walking closely behind us. Their encroachment combined with their subtle chatter about us started us giggling.
The convo went down like this:
"Do you ladies smoke" Okay so it's beyond the year 2000, but anyways
"No"
"Well that's a shame" - Is it? I mean the last time I checked I was preventing numerous cancers, gross nails and smelliness.
Silence
"What are your names" - I can tell J's getting antsy, me - well I see the corner ahead.
"J" silence, then "J" - From the silence I could tell they were trying to decide if we were lying about having the same names.
J in desperation whispered "I'm too old for this."
I whispered, "Maybe we should tell them we're in therapy"
J retorted - "What like Couples Therapy?"
Of course I had to respond "Given their age I think that will backfire"
Thankfully we were at the corner and could make our respective breaks for it.

Now bless their young hearts for making me doubt my usage of Botox and anti-aging products, I mean maybe I look too young... Then again as I said to C that night - I don't get it, they saw all of what? The back of our heads and the side of my face. They don't know anything beyond my fabulous taste in handbags and that I'm taller then J. You know I understand a guy approaching a woman in a restaurant/bar or other social setting, but 11pm at night on a street when all you've seen is her bundled up backside, that's when you've lost me.

You want to know what's even sadder - I've had more pick ups from behind than from in front - I guess I manage to style my hair well in the back, even though my arm length makes using the flatiron difficult.

Photo: http://flickr.com/photos/23017963@N00/114390867/