I will respect the results of the duel.
I just got a FedEx overnight urgent package containing ten MetLife pens.
It's been that kind of week.
On Tuesday a guy came in selling the world's best chocolate. His Christian church sells them to raise money to put prostitutes in homes or something like that. I'm a little fuzzy on the details because I was working. By working, obviously I mean I was moving papers from one part of my desk to another in an effort to look busy and let him know that his unsolicited soliciting was a big inconvenience.
Chocolate Guy: Would you like to buy the world's best chocolate so prostitutes can have homes?
Me: Not today, thanks!
Chocolate Guy: What about them? (Gesturing to my boss & coworker who were in the back room.)
Me: They're in a meeting, we better not interrupt.
Chocolate Guy: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No. (This is the wrong answer. Always say yes. There is no need to be honest with the chocolate guy.)
Chocolate Guy: Can I get your number?
Me: Oh, no, I don't think so.
Chocolate Guy: Do you have a Facebook?
Me: I don't, actually. (Lies, lies, lies.)
Chocolate Guy: What if I give you my number? Then you can call me and we can text and maybe hang out.
Me: No thanks!
Chocolate Guy: Ok, well, you're very beautiful young lady.
The End.
So weird. I mean...just so weird. What kind of guy asks for a girl's number like 45 seconds after seeing her? Just...why? Based on what? And what kind of girl says yes? Yes, I would like to date a guy who sells candy bars for a living. Well, ok, I totally would like to date that guy, let's be honest. But not the door-to-door candy bar orange-haired guy. Too strange. Kudos for having the guts to ask though, I suppose. At least it gave me something to put on this blog before you all forget I even have a blog. So there's that.
It's been that kind of week.
On Tuesday a guy came in selling the world's best chocolate. His Christian church sells them to raise money to put prostitutes in homes or something like that. I'm a little fuzzy on the details because I was working. By working, obviously I mean I was moving papers from one part of my desk to another in an effort to look busy and let him know that his unsolicited soliciting was a big inconvenience.
Chocolate Guy: Would you like to buy the world's best chocolate so prostitutes can have homes?
Me: Not today, thanks!
Chocolate Guy: What about them? (Gesturing to my boss & coworker who were in the back room.)
Me: They're in a meeting, we better not interrupt.
Chocolate Guy: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No. (This is the wrong answer. Always say yes. There is no need to be honest with the chocolate guy.)
Chocolate Guy: Can I get your number?
Me: Oh, no, I don't think so.
Chocolate Guy: Do you have a Facebook?
Me: I don't, actually. (Lies, lies, lies.)
Chocolate Guy: What if I give you my number? Then you can call me and we can text and maybe hang out.
Me: No thanks!
Chocolate Guy: Ok, well, you're very beautiful young lady.
The End.
So weird. I mean...just so weird. What kind of guy asks for a girl's number like 45 seconds after seeing her? Just...why? Based on what? And what kind of girl says yes? Yes, I would like to date a guy who sells candy bars for a living. Well, ok, I totally would like to date that guy, let's be honest. But not the door-to-door candy bar orange-haired guy. Too strange. Kudos for having the guts to ask though, I suppose. At least it gave me something to put on this blog before you all forget I even have a blog. So there's that.
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