Scene: gas station. I am about to slide into my driver’s seat, having just gotten my change from filling up my car
An SUV pulls up to the pump next to mine, a man jumps out.
Man: Hey girl! How’s your day?
Me: Um… pretty good, and yours?
Man: *laughs and holds up a casted arm* Oh, as well as can be expected With this thing on girl!
Me: Oh, that sucks!
Man: But nevermind that girl, nevermind that. And girl, I don’t want your pity, I want your name!
Me: Um… I’m Jill…
Man: Pretty name girl! Jill. I like it! I’m Evon! See, that’s my real name – you’re the kind of girl I introduce myself to with my real name, not my nickname!
Me: Oh, ha, um, thanks!
Evon: See girl, I was driving by and I saw this girl with gorgeous, luxurious, long hair. And then I saw you washing your windows, and I said, ‘That girl must be single because I would never let my woman wash her windows!‘
Evon: Right, see, and girl, you’re the kind that I would pamper and I wouldn’t let you wash them windows! That’s my job!
Me: … … …
Evon: And girl, I’d treat you well!
Me.: … … …
Evon: So… can I have your number?
Shortly after I somehow managed to extricate myself (I know, it’s amazing I didn’t before with my eloquent style of talking…) with the usual lies of the-nonexistant-boyfriend-who’s-right-around-the-corner.
It kind of reminded me of the time I was asked to have someone’s honey colored babies.
But mostly, it reminded me of this, pretty much to the T: