I did the door dance with one of them. You know the one. I swerve, he swerves, we both go the other way, no wait, after you, how about I go over here? Right. So that happened. I smiled at him because it was funny, and I left. Nothing was said.
Past that exit is a foyer before you get to the real exit that goes outside. In this foyer, I turned off into a corridor to stop at the ladies room, and when I was partway down that hallway, I heard someone behind me:
I turned. It was the door dance kid: "Are you married?"
I must say, though, his timing was impeccable. Just this very day I found another gray hair.
"I'm . . ." (trying to calculate your age, can you even vote?)
He gave me a warm smile and a polite apology, told me to have a nice afternoon, waved, and left. I went into the ladies room and wondered what the heck just happened.
I've been told a few times in lo, my many years that I'm fairly oblivious to come-ons. I tend to just assume everybody is friendly, and that's all. But, wow. "Are you married?" That's pretty clear, right?
Maybe he wasn't a teenager. Could it be that he was really 25, not 18, and that I'm so old now that a 25-year-old looks 18 to me?
Or what if I'd said I was single, and then he'd said, "Super. Would you give me a hand with my tenth grade sociology project? I'm supposed to interview women in mid-life who have not found love."
I imagine many endings to the alternate conversation, and all of them end in embarrassment. I just don't see myself as the cougar type, although I would really like to have my own theme song.