Average Jane



Complimenting my Carriage (or, how to pick up a girl with the most insulting line ever)

I’m a good shot. A damn good shot. Not that I’d ever go hunting. Well, not that I’d ever go hunting for real animals in the real woods. Instead, I pay $1 to take aim at critters and large game going about their carefree lives in the woods/outback/jungle/tundra of Big Buck Hunter.

On Christmas Eve, Rebekkah and I found ourselves at a local bar, decompressing after a traditional chinese food dinner with the family. It was pretty empty, which naturally meant that the one guy who had drunkenly wandered in sat right down next to us at the bar. I tried to look interested. I tried as hard as I’m known to try which is not hard at all. Then I made the grand recommendation that Rebekkah and I play Big Buck Hunter. Without our new friend.

Taking aim with my orange plastic hunting rifle, I took out an evening’s worth of aggression on poor, unsuspecting buck, and their does, and small woodland creatures just the same. Rebekkah was impressed (as I was with her innate skills), and so were two tall, frat boy looking, t-shirt glad, shuffleboard playing gentleman who made their way over to the game just as we were finishing up. As the banter went from awkward to easy, we got around to the “why are you at a bar on Christmas Eve” part of the conversation.

“Jewish.” It was a safe and truthful response.

The dark haired one jumped in: “You’re Jewish? You? Are you serious? You’re Jewish? You’re tall. Oh my God, you’d be perfect for my friend.”

The red haired one, the one who effortlessly used “pugilist” in a sentence just moments before, grabbed my hips and squared them to his. “Wow. You have a really good child bearing carriage.”

“Excuse me?!” I had no words. “Um..”

“You do. Your small, high waist and wide set hips.”

“Are you a gynecologist?!”

“No,” he responded. “It’s a compliment!”

“No, it’s not! And let’s just say in your brain it was a compliment, it’s not one you SHARE with someone!”

Shocked yet objectively humored at the ridiculous nature of the conversation, I did everything in my power to make my carriage look as dainty as possible, employing all the tricks I half listened to on America’s Next Top Model. “Look concave, twist your hips away from the camera.” He may have been trying to be nice. He also made me feel like a heifer.

With cooler heads prevailing, I found ways to take it as a compliment. Evolutionarily speaking, he remarked upon my reproductive advantage. That’s how to spin it, right? He was tall and virile. He was gainfully employed. He was aggressive and assured. He was the evolutionary advantageous “hunter” that would put my child bearing carriage to good use.

Except this is real life.

And I’m just not interested. Certainly it’s hard to hunt and gather with your foot in your mouth.

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Comments

  1. * terrabearra says:

    Wow. That’s Awkward, with a mandatory capitol A.

    | Reply Posted 5 years, 7 months ago


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