Man-Eater?

I am naturally disposed to attracting men of the working class.

At first I thought this small life trend was just a coincidence, but over the past few months I have learned that my attractiveness peaks with men of the working class.

Example #1: The Gas Station Attendant. This gem has been in my life for a little over five years, when he started working at the gas station down the street from my house.

At first I was relatively naïve at the fact that the gas attendant [who we now lovingly refer to as “Boyfriend”] was blatantly hitting on me. I, for one, was extremely pleased that my little no-name gas station had set such high customer service standards. Maybe he was asking me how I was because that is the polite thing to do?

As our relationship progressed to stage one of uncomfortable, which I have entitled the “Stop and stare” phase, Boyfriend would say hello, linger and then scan up and down my body as I was sitting Indian Style in sweatpants, with no make up on [I mean who doesn’t get gas like that.] Step two included his scan, followed by a wedding ring check, followed by a “You have boyfriend? You so pretty” comment to follow [in broken English].

After that, I developed a gas station complex. I was scared and/or too awkward to go to the gas station and have him pump my gas. I started to pump my own gas elsewhere, but the prices at no-name were just so darn good that I couldn’t stay away for long. Besides, I shouldn’t let an awkward attendant force me to pay more for gas elsewhere.

Stage three occurred after my brief hiatus away from no-name, to which I was then a victim to a [obviously rehearsed] speech from “Boyfriend” which included him asking where I had been, and him also requesting that I get $2 of gas every day so that he can see me everyday…oh, and that I make his day every time he sees me.

Right. Gas station complex builds. My solution? Bring along a second party to see if I was simply just flattering myself.

Stage four, entitled “stop and stare even with my mother in the car” was next. This seems self explanatory. Stage five, entitled “do a drive by, then if you don’t see ‘Boyfriend’ you can safely pull in and get gas” seems to be working better.

Example #2: The AAA Car Repairman. After one of Sass’s untimely breakdowns, I realized that I should be overly nice to the AAA repairmen who so often fix my car. My thought process? Maybe they will fix my car for free! Maybe they will put a note on my file explaining how nice I am, causing them to come faster! Maybe I will end up having the same repairman once Sass inevitably breaks again and be able to skip the whole AAA process! Apparently the translation for this situation on the AAA repair man’s part = girl likes me, must ask girl out.

Again, I was overjoyed at how great AAA’s attention to customer service was. The repairman was timely, efficient, and even made me feel better. The text messages to follow later that afternoon asking me out, however, left a much different feeling with me. I describe this feeling as the “oh-my-god, the AAA guy had my number when I was in crisis and incorrectly thought my polite/not ripping his head off actions were actually “hey, I am totally into you, thanks for saving me when I was a damsel in distress.’” While it was flattering, it got extremely creepy when he started re-sending texts that I hadn’t responded to, and then late night texting me. Woof.

Example #3: The Sullivan Tire Chaffier. Same day. Same car problem. Same attempt at trying to get to work. Two hours later, I found myself talking to my mechanic-turned-chauffer re: his weekends being a Sunday-Monday schedule. My initial [and what I thought was very normal] reaction to his schedule? That is awesome, you can stay up late watching all of the Sunday night football games! Apparently that is not the normal reaction, gauged by his “I’ve never heard a hotter sentence come out of a woman’s mouth before” statement, followed by his immediate questioning regarding my weekend, specifically Sunday night football plans, and if they might per chance intertwine with his. Right.

Example #4: The Cashier at the Charlestown Johnnies. In an effort to defer attention from the fact that I have yet to remove the make-up from under my eyes from going out the night before and that I was embarrassingly hungover, I decided to strike up a conversation with my cashier, with [equally hungover] roommate in tow. After grabbing my bags, thanking him and walking away, my roommate informed me that said cashier had repetitevly winked at me in an attempt to get a reaction. Clearly I was too focused on not throwing up in the grocery store to notice. If its any consolation, if I were a junior in high school, I would definitely have hoped that he would ask me to prom. Sigh.

Example #5: The Electrician. Meet the newest member of my fan club. This weekend we were semi-powerless, so when Jose [the repairman] was unable to fix the problem, he called his manager. “Manager” [who spoke fluent English and was semi attractive looking] arrived, and my roommates offered him a drink. Just as he refused, all of our power went out, due to NSTAR cutting power to the entire neighborhood. We were now all helpless standing in our dark kitchen. Nice was when he offered for us to call his personal cell if NSTAR didn’t fix the problem. Creepy was when he texted me two hours later asking if we had power and what I was doing.

Stay tuned for when I take out the garbage, run into the mailman, and become a regular at our local coffee shop!