I’ve still got it.

Last night, as I was driving to a friend’s for our monthly game of Bunco, a guy hit on me. While I was in my car. Stopped at a stoplight.

Before I tell the story, in all fairness let me make two things clear:

  1. I was in my car, he was in his car, and I imagine there was no way for him to see my wedding ring or pregnant belly from where he was.
  2. I was not in my usual attire of sweats and a T-shirt and a naked (sans concealor!) face. I had just showered, done my hair and makeup, and I was wearing big, silvery hoop earrings that always make me feel very pretty. I was looking about as best as I can these days, considering that I’m still so exhausted all. the. time.

With that said, as I was sitting at the stoplight just a couple blocks away from my destination, I glanced over to see the relatively good-looking guy in the car next to mine staring at me. He gave me one of those head jerks and half-smiles that you might expect from an 18-year-old (not a grown man) and I blushed and quickly glanced away. I stared straight ahead, determined not to look back, even though I could tell he was still staring my way. Green light, green light, green light, I chanted in my head. I wanted a reason to drive off.

Instead, the light stayed stubbornly red and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this guy roll down his window and start waving at me. So, yes…I glanced at him again. He motioned for me to roll down my window. I hesitated, and then I’m almost embarrassed to admit I did. I was thinking, What do you possibly want, creep-o?, while also being very curious as to what he would say in the few seconds we had left before the light change. And this is how our brief conversation went:

HIM: You’re cute.

ME: What? (because I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right)

HIM: You’re cute.

ME: Oh. Thank you.

HIM: (while making a little motion with both thumbs) Do you text? (When I told my friend Lillian this bit, she laughed and asked, “How old is he? In junior high?”)

ME: I do, but (raising my left hand to show him my ring) I’m married.

He nodded and shrugged as if to say, What can you do? and I blushed some more. Mercifully, the light changed then and I was able to give him one last smile and make my getaway.

As I drove off, I thought about how odd the experience was, and what kind of weirdo this guy must be. I mean, who does that? (Come to find out, after telling my husband this story, Honey too can join the ranks of weirdos like this…he admitted to once seeing a cute girl walking down the street and pulling over to get her number.) But also…you have to admit, the guy has balls. That takes some pretty awesome nerve and confidence to hit on a girl you know nothing about while waiting at a stop light.

When I later told the story to my friends while playing Bunco, they all laughed their heads (and other body parts) off, but also told me I should be flattered. And you know what? I decided they’re right. I would like to say these kind of things happen to me all the time. But alas, they do not. My husband says I get the eye from guys rather regularly, but I haven’t noticed. And I certainly haven’t had anyone try to pick me up in years. And this guy wasn’t even the scumbag  from down the street. He drove a nice car and looked pretty decent to me. I’m making this assumption based on appearance alone, but that’s something, right???

So it’s nice to know that this pregnant mama who’s been married five years and is about to turn thirty has still got it. Whatever “it” is. You know?

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