True Story

Yesterday, John suggested that I go out with some friend(s) for coffee or something.  He knows I love girl time.  After I put Burl to bed, I met a friend at Starbucks for girl talk.  It may or may not involved talk about our new skinny jeans and workout clothes that are appropriate to wear out in public.  

As we were leaving, we were talking about the trick of putting keys between your fingers to make for a painful punch if we happen to run into any bad guys in the parking lot.  She walked to her car, I walked to mine.  

I was unlocking my car, when a guy stepped out of the car next to me.  Here's what happened:

"Excuse me, hey, I was just wondering, are you from around here?"

"Yes."

"Um, did you go to school around here?  Did you happen to go to CCS?"

"Actually, I did."

"I thought you looked familiar.  I did went to CCS too.  Wow.  What year did you graduate?"

"99, what about you?"

"Haha, I was 97.  That's crazy.  I knew it.  I knew you looked familiar.  My name is Michael ___.  Do you remember me?"

{At this point, my friend gets in her car and starts to slowly circle around me.  I wasn't too worried, he really seemed harmless.  I'm pretty sure I could take him, but I was still on the defense.}

"Um, yeah, your name sounds familiar."

"Oh wow.  That's cool.  So are you married?"

"Yeah, I've been married..."

"Oh man, I was going to see if you wanted to hang out sometime."

{I was thinking:  I'm getting hit on.  No hilarious freaking way.}

"Oh, well thanks, but yeah, I'm married."

"Oh, well, have a good night.  I knew you looked familiar maybe I'll see you at a reunion or something."

"Yeah, cool.  Have a good night."

As I got into my car, my loyal friend drove slowly away and called me right away.  She was checking on me and said that she was ready to spring into action if something was about to go bad.  I told her what happened and we had a great laugh.  I went home, told John, and he had a laugh too.  And he was happy for me.  

This morning, I'm still feeling cool.  I got hit on.  To say I'm flattered is a gross understatement.  Part of me has to wonder, how long is too long to be happy about it?  I'm not sure, so for now, I'll just tell myself that I STILL GOT IT.