Today a 70 year-old man (calling my office) informs me he is shipping in his 30 year-old girlfriend. Shipping from where, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. He was very proud of the age difference. He didn’t call just to tell me this, but only about one minute of the conversation had to do with work. At 1:01, he barreled on to tell me about his love/sex life. He says, “I’m getting crap from my friends for using my little head rather than my big one. But a person needs sex.” I responded with a long pause and then, ‘Yes, indeed. It makes the world go ’round.’ He proceeds to ask me if I got married (as if I had been planning this last time we talked, as if he and I are long-lost frieends) and if not, would I want to be set up with his 40ish year-old friend?

It seems I come across an odd assortment of people, specifically men. I’d go so far as to say I am a freak magnet. Although, one woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure, right? Because it does not stop there. He is just an addition to my expanding treasure chest. I’ve tried to figure out how I tend to attract the following kinds of men and have concluded that it’s just me being at the wrong place at the wrong time. All the time.

I first became privy to my freak magnetism when my friends and I were at a Girl’s Day Out event, which included clothing booths, Mary Kay promotions and other girly things. Some man popped up out of nowhere with a flier in hand, on which he had written down his phone number. Correction: written down his mom’s phone number. Because he was staying on her couch. This man was, I’m gonna guess, pushing fifty. You staying at your mom’s when you’ve just graduated college and are home for the summer looking for a job, ok, MAYBE. You, a grown ass man picking up girls half your age at a girls only event, telling me not to worry if your MOM answers the phone…um, no.

The type of guys I attract.

And the list continues to grow. Here is an edited compilation of random strangies in no particular order:

-the (gay?) guy at the Italian restaurant around the corner who moonlights as a wannabe rock star, whose opener to me was how fantastic my shoes were (what non-gay guy says that?) and then on to talk of his mother, then finally to the question of, will I be in his music video? Nice guy, though one of the stranger moments of life.

-the guy who sends his porn videos to my phone! At first I thought, innocent mistake, wrong number. Second time, thought it was a prank. Third time, I text back that perhaps he had the wrong fucking number! Luckily, no word since, but it makes you wonder…who could he possibly WANT to be sending those to? Even through the phone, I am a freak magnet.

-the guy who followed me down 11th Street a few weeks ago, while I was trying not to slip on the ice. He yelled at me from his truck, ‘Don’t fall!’ Then proceeded to creep along with his head out the window, like a perv in an ice cream van trying to lure kids, staring at me and insisting I take his business card, so I could give him a call sometime. It’s not even 9 o’clock! I’m trying not to bust my ass. And, I don’t know you! Stranger danger! That’s what I should start yelling.

-the guy who came into the office to pay for his girlfriend’s? case, asked if I ‘had a man’, and when I told him yes (because ‘yes’ is always the right answer in this situation) hung his head and said, ‘Damn, I walked in here, saw you and thought I won the lottery.’ Oh. my. God. Do not ever say that again. In life. Ever. Just maybe keep your mouth shut to be on the safe side.

-bar guy who grabbed me by the arm, spilled my beer (a BIG no no) and told me I won the contest. And of course, me responding with ‘What?’ led him to tell me I’ve won the contest for the most gorgeous eyes. Really? Really! You take the cake for the biggest douchebag at the bar. Not an easy accomplishment. Congratulations.

-my library friend. I call him a friend, but he’s not really a friend. But I do feel sorry for him. Even though he semi-stalks me. He thinks we know each other. I know I don’t know him and I told him I don’t, but he still seems to think I know him from JCCC. Every time I return a book, every time I go to look for a new DVD, there he is. Like the butler off Mr. Deeds.

For the love of God, where do you people come from?!? I want to be polite, smile when smiled at, be nice for chrissakes but this is getting out of hand! Lately anymore, nothing surprises me.

So bring it on, you nut jobs…

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