Sigh. I can’t win.
I was leaving work today, rejoicing in the bliss of being able to leave a breathtaking hour early, when I saw a man walking into the building who seemed to be attractive. I say “seemed” because I didn’t really look at him directly. It was more a surreptitious scan—you know, the scan that women perfect and men can’t get down to save their lives.
Anyway, scan completed, I registered a couple of things: 1) the man was attractive, 2) he was my type, and 3) I should try to get his attention. I know—that last one is surprising. But I’ve been working on that whole “life plan” thing with coach Pen, and apparently, my total and complete lack of progress on the dating front can be somewhat related to my lack of action plan. [I pointed out that it was also due to lack of proper motivation, an overwhelming workload and laziness, but she appears to be having none of that.]
The problem was that by the time I processed all of this, the man who was walking toward me was, in fact, right next to me and within seconds would pass me. So, I did a very subtle double take in the hopes that he would see my blinding smile out of his peripheral vision. Well, subtle in that I nearly turned my body entirely around in order to accomplish it, but boy did I smile.
I wasn’t entirely certain why the guy suddenly looked like he was braced for impact. I mean, I didn’t even get close to him. I made no sudden lunging movements, and unless the smile was completely maniacal (rather than entirely appropriately perky), I think I was projecting “inviting” rather than “crazy”. In the split second I had to ponder his reaction, my eyes flicked up to his face again.
Yeah, he might have been a fairly well-known actor. His name might rhyme with Mason Tateman. My entirely subtle double take may have been taken for “crazed fan reaction” rather than “entirely out of whack female flirting technique”.
What do you do in this situation? It’s not like I could yell, “No, I’m not a fan!” I mean, that just sounds wrong. Plus, it’s sort of a lie. I do like his work; I just wouldn’t approach him for an autograph. Also, running back to catch up to him in order to explain that I didn’t even recognize him could also be taken the wrong way. You never know which famous person is going to find that charming and which one will take that as binge-worthy blow to their self-esteem.
[As a side note, can we finally get that electronic celeb board tracker in place? Maybe next to the name, it could give you clues to each day’s preferences like “wants to be recognized”, “on the edge”, “likes to date non-industry types”, “approach with caution”, “bring cocaine” and “pretend like you’ve never heard of him”. Could really be helpful.]
So, I did what I always do: I kept walking while carrying on a highly entertaining inner dialogue about whether or not the guy I just passed was indeed Mason Tateman. Hilarious. Seriously, if only I could market my confusion, I’d make a fortune.
What would you have done?