Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Never Been Told

Chatting with an acquaintance on the subway this morning, she and I are politely, but nonetheless giggling at shared memories and the fact that I have clearly caught the eye of the male sitting across from me. I’m wearing mirrored sunglasses and one of the things I love most about them is that while my head can be facing you, you have no way of knowing with certainty if I am in fact looking at you. It comes in handy for ignoring the guy who is using every non-verbal attempt short of semaphores to subtly garner.

Knowing he’s being ignored, I give him moxie points for getting out of his seat to stand directly in front and say “Hello.” My acquaintance grins broadly as even I cannot ignore what’s less than three feet in front of me. Thus I look up and return the greeting.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re very beautiful?” He smiles almost bashfully, and damn it all to hell, the Grand Canyon of dimples craters his cheeks. Because who adores cute guys with deep dimples?-This gal.

“Why thank you.” I smile beguilingly in return. “But honestly, look at me. Do you really think I’ve never been told that before?”

To his credit he grins undeterred and the canyon gets deeper. He fixes me with a brown doe-eyed stare as he gathers the gumption to continue. “Fair enough” He nods sheepishly at last, “I’m almost to my stop, I’d still like to ask you out to dinner.”

“You can ask, but the answer will be no.”

I know age is just a number and all that hoo-hah, but the thought of this going down the presumed natural procession and my one-day having to introduce him to the Baal and Beelzebub tag-team duo known as my sons gives me just pause. It takes everything I have to not guffaw in his earnest face at the thought of the scenario of my grown sons giving me the side-eye for dating someone likely ten years their junior. The train pulls into the next station and I can tell by his rueful expression, this is his stop. He starts to speak, but I quickly cut him off.

“Look, I’ve got acne scars from my teens older than you.  Thank you, really, but no. You better hurry before you miss your stop.” I say dismissively. Peripherally I can see my acquaintance’s jaw come slightly unhinged at my words. I ignore her, fixing the would-be Lothario with a pointed stare that I know he can glean, even with my sunglasses on. He nods once, turns and exits the train. I exhale not even realizing I had held my breath until it came rushing out of me.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a bitch?” She shakes her head at me laughing, watching as the doors close quickly behind him.

“Why thank you.” I smile. “But honestly, look at me. Do you really think I’ve never been told that before?”

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