Picking it up from the last post, after the King’s Battle of the Bands last week, I was hit on by a British Airlines flight attendant. She was about 30 and pretty cute. As I walked off-stage from my last set, she stopped me from her seat at the bar. She did this by placing her hand under my right pectoral and saying, “Hey, you were great.” To be honest, I don’t know which surprised me more, that she was hitting on me or that she liked my jokes. I thanked her, and this dialogue followed:
Her: “How long have you been doing this?”
Me: “Almost 3 months.”
Her: “Wow! Well, you sing really well.”
Me: “…I didn’t sing.”
Her: “You aren’t the drummer?”
Me: “None of the drummers sang…”
As reality slapped me back to the ground, I was about to leave when she grabbed me by the bicep and added, “Wait. I’m sorry, I’m drunk and it’s my birthday.” I looked at her for a second, replied, “Happy Birthday!” and sat down next to her. In my experience of female sexual innuendo, “I’m drunk and it’s my birthday,” is definitely close to a woman’s mating call. A man’s mating call, on the other hand, occurs when he’s with a woman, and words are coming out of his mouth. “So, where are you from?” is probably the most used, and least successful of these.
Anyhoo, the flight attendant then gives me her glass of pinot gregio, and tells me, “You better catch up.” It would have been rude to not comply. As I’m gulping her wine down, a 35 year-old muscular guy with a shaved head comes up to her, points at me, and exclaims, “Sherry! He’s too young for you!” She leans over to me and says, “This is my brother.” I start to get up, not entirely because I’m a pussy, but also because I’m not dumb enough to fight for some random cougar in a bar. As I get up, the guy extends his hands like he’s going to choke me, and says again, “He’s too young! Despite his great thighs!” and uses his hands to caress my left thigh.
Shocked, I just stared at him for a second, and he asks me, “You’ve got a nice chest too. You aren’t gay are you?” To which I responded, “Not that I know of…” Christ. I knew I was awkward when flirting with women, but apparently it’s the same with men too. He had a follow-up for me as well:
Him: “How old are you?”
Him: “You’re not old enough to know yet.”
Me: “Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not gay, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
And then I made my awkward escape. I’ve also been hit on by two other men this week, including a homeless man. I’ll save those stories for another day.
One thought on “Getting Hit On”
That is soooooo rad.