Hey, you! Yeah, you… the guy in the slate blue t-shirt (which admittedly brings out your eyes and makes you look like you work out more than you probably do… because you are probably just blessed with strong capable arms and broad… ok, stop distracting me from my completely justifiable outrage).
When a mature woman says hello to you, it will not kill you to acknowledge her. You know, it’s just polite to acknowledge another human being, and not just because she’s been challenged to talk to strange men and needs to add at least one guy per weekend so that she doesn’t end up looking like a complete social failure. Seriously, it’s not that.
Sure, I’m not the best looking woman you’ve ever seen in your life. I will also grant that I am not the best looking woman you’ve seen today, or … you know, even that hour. But in that millisecond before you glanced to the right of me and saw that really fetching homeless woman, I was looking good.
But, nooooooooo…. you just kept right on walking… leaving me desolate, alone and still stuck at 5 ½ men, ugh!
I have no other choice but to console myself with ice cream and several additional hours of weather channel viewing.