Yesterday while at Starbucks a nice guy was chatting me up. We talked about the weather (day five of rain in Colorado), how it’s like California and how people here don’t know what to do with rain. He complimented my shirt and nicely bought my coffee.
Yeah. It took me until after I left to realize that he was probably hitting on me. I’m slow like that. I did what any woman who has no clue about these things would do, I texted my best friends. I commented that maybe he was gay, because he complimented my shirt. The answer is still cracking me up: “Gay doesn’t buy you coffee.”
Huh. Good to know. I’ll assume this is true, even though said best friends are happily married to amazing men who they’ve been with since they were teens.
One day I’ll decide I am ready to date. When that day comes I’ll need to take lessons so that I, you know, NOTICE WHEN SOME ONE FLIRTS WITH ME. Ahem.