I HATE a guy with a car and no sense of humor.

Wow, just when I think I don't need to experience anything new and awkward, people involve you without your consent.

I hit the Addison Flying Saucer on my way home today, as the weather was gorgeous and their main room is this large area with wood floors, wood tables and lined all around by French doors, which they always open on days like these. I always pick a window seat and can read and eat a fat pretzel with queso (bad diet!) to my heart's delight. No one ever bothers me--shit, the waitresses barely pay me any mind.

And while I'm sitting here trying to enjoy the world's most awful, guilty pleasure known as Twilight (it is shameless how much fun and awfulness it is all at once), the waitress brings me a second beer and informs me that the gentleman with dark hair and glasses "over there" has bought my first beer. (I thought she was going to tell me she'd accidentally given him my pretzel, you can tell where my concerns lie.)

I was totally at a loss for what to say. Infact, I think I told her, "Uh, ok..." I mean, wtf? Even if I were single and thought he was a wicked ticket, do you then buy him one back? Or offer a slimey wink and nod? Not only was I never skilled in this department, I have zero interest now (not only as a married woman, but dude, principles) and will continue to live by the same rules I always have: keep my head down and pretend it never happened.

In this, I am skilled.

I am only afraid he will continue to drink and come over here with his liquid courage and try to join me or talk to me. Thank god for the looking-oh-so-busy this laptop provides. I'm workin' here! However, I really just want to read my book. You fucking people. This would have never happened had I been studying my LSATs like I meant to. Only when I'm engrossed in utter piffle do people choose distract me.

And where the fuck is the goddamn pretzel I ordered 45 minutes ago? See what I mean?
Jesus.