aww.

I was at the auto parts store last week, and I decided to take advantage of the free battery testing they do. The auto parts man brought his machine out to my car. I opened up the hood and then watched him unravel the wires. Unfamiliar with the process and standing sort of awkwardly by, I asked if there was anything else I needed to do.

"Just stand there and look pretty." Aww. The auto parts man thinks I'm pretty. I don't get hit on very often, and each time holds a special place in my memory as a shining moment in which I was validated by the opposite sex (well, one time by the same sex. I think.).

The bad thing about being hit on is that sometimes you already have a boyfriend. Actually, this is usually a very, very good thing in its own way, because it is a built-in excuse. You can say, "sorry, taken!" without having to add that even if you had been single for the past fifteen years, you would not want to spend any additional time with the person. No, the danger is in telling your boyfriend about the incident, because he might get suspicious and jealous and possibly even angry at you because of the actions of a stranger. And that's unfair, but possibly natural. If the auto parts man hits on me, then no matter what my reaction, my boyfriend might feel threatened. And so he gets grumpy and suddenly I'm not allowed to go to the auto parts store ever again. It's silly, really. You can't get mad at someone for agreeing with your tastes. I sincerely hope that my boyfriend also thinks that I am pretty, even if he is wearing great big love blinders.

That was an exaggeration. Josh would never tell me not to go to an auto parts store. He might just develop a deep-seated suspicion regarding auto parts men in general without really understanding why. I have a similar relationship with female bank tellers. Stupid bank tellers.

But you have to be very careful about how you report these things. You can't come bounding up and excitedly say, "I got hit on today!" the way you would tell your BFFAA (best friend forever and always) that Jimmy had asked you to the prom. That's pretty much how I always feel, though. Like I said, it's rare, and it's validation. Even if he is an absolute loathsome kitten-kicker that no one should ever date lest he reproduce, somehow his opinion counts. It's as simple as that. If a stranger told me that I looked fresh from a visit to Ugly Town, that would crush me, too. Basically, I don't have to be attracted to someone to feel flattered that they're attracted to me. As long as I defuse the situation as best I can, I should feel no guilt for *gasp!* actually being appealing to another human being. What I want is to be able to tell a story about something during my day that made me feel good about myself without worrying about causing tension in my relationship.

Back to the auto part store parking lot. I'm flattered and blushing, but realize that I need to keep an eye on the situation so that the conversation didn't escalate to him asking me for a number or date or impromptu waltz in the parking lot. If this guy were not roughly my age and were instead roughly three times my age, I would have immediately said, "Okay, I'm good at that." I can't say that, oh man, do I want to, but I can't, because that would definitely be encouragement. He's lit a cigarette by now, so I ask if he's allowed to smoke while doing battery tests. We finish the battery test, my battery's fine, but he tries to sell me one anyway, and it's over. Later, I tell Josh about it and he handles it well, only narrowing his eyes and scowling for a second. Then he bounces back and tells me that I am, in fact, pretty.

Aww. My boyfriend thinks I'm pretty.