I picked up another girl at the grocery store. It started with "I love your hair . . . " and concluded with " . . . well, you can come to my line anytime." It was at Trader Joes, so it was at least an arty cute girl. I was distracted in the excitement of finding "the best friend's" day off. Because I like Trader Joes. And I can now go there on Mondays.
I once had a friend that was very concerned about being noticed. I always assured him that he was just not noticing when people noticed him . . . usually the way it works. And before various discussions about being unnoticed at the mall or the grocery store, I hadn't given it much thought. I always chat with the cashier, the bus boy, the record store guy . . . a trait I picked up from my grandfather. I'll tell you that you really should just pick out the paint chip and go to Sears . . . because they have the best paint and all the paint here is runny and crap. And I don't care that you don't really want my opinion. This doesn't get me any more dates, I assure you. Well, maybe it would if I pursued the girl option.
Actually, I have picked up two guys at Starbucks in the last week. I just don't count them because they weren't anyone that I would date seriously. But that's really the tricky part, isn't it? Picking up people that you actually want to talk to? Maybe I'm asking for too much . . . my friend seemed unconcerned about who noticed him. He just wanted to be noticed . . . acknowledged. He didn't care who did the noticing. Perhaps, I should shift to that perspective.
Maybe I'll try Caribou today. Seems artier . . . less golf guy.
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