Scene at the Blue Box yesterday:
I’m about to leave one of my stores, when I pass a guy looking slightly lost in front of a wall of guy’s pants. I realize most of the staff is otherwise engaged, and decide to help them out. Ask the guy if he needs help. He turns, and I realize he’s not just a mere random guy, he’s a smokin hot-silver fox-hipster dad -type.
I stay. We flirt. I convince him he’s totally sexy for a 50 year old and absolutely needs slim-cut khakis. He gives me his number. The store manager is like “WTF, this is not happening.” I go to put his number in my bag, and realize from his area code he lives in a different county, a good 45 min away. I question my suspicion, he confirms.
“Oh. Well that’s too bad,” I lament, gathering my things.
“Oh...is it too bad?”
I give him one last wink, and assure him he looks great, and then high tail it out.
Because apparently if we’re gonna bang, I’m going to need you to be in walking distance.