No, the BF did not “pop the question” – we still have a while before that subject is even considered fair game. What I got on the phone today was more along the lines of an “indecent proposal,” from a complete and total stranger.
Yep, you read that right. A total stranger.
Seems one of our readers, a charming gent who lives in Texas and speaks with such a deep baritone, thick Texas drawl that I was inclined to be extra nice to him the second he said, “Well, hello ma’am” – anyway, I digress…
Seems this gent found an error in one of our articles and had called to bring it to our attention.
Handling those phone calls is normally one of my least favorite tasks since the callers can be rather grumpy and downright insulting (somehow, the whole guy-talking-to-girl-about-guns thing just doesn’t thrill them) but this one was a pleasure.
Between my already professed soft-spot for Southern men and his charming and pleasant manner (errmmm, why do you think I tend to like Southern men?) it wasn’t long before I was laughing and chatting with the man as I finished up taking the notes, offered to send him a copy of our latest “annual” as a thank you and other job niceties.
In my line of work, a little of the old-fashioned “banter” is pretty much a regular event. It’s nothing remarkable.
This gent, however, apparently had other ideas…
After joking with me that he knew I couldn’t be a blonde (let’s not even go there…) he was offering to drive out here, all the way from Texas, to show me a good time around my own lovely home town, and he made it pretty darn clear that meant more than steak and a two-step.
How in the hell did I waltz myself into that conversation? Perhaps more importantly, how do I waltz my way out of it?
True to his Southern roots, he took my laughing refusal in stride…
Now, I’m not quite sure if that whole thing should make my day, piss me off, or just make me laugh. I’m choosing the laughter.