Alright ladies and gentlemen. It is now time for me to give you my what the FUCK moment of the week.
Last night I had an amazing happy hour with Tricia and then later in the evening met Kaitlyn downtown at Purple for a few glasses of wine and a few hours of non stop chatting. By the end of the evening i was glowing in the awesomeness of my friends. AWESOMENESS. Anyhoos.... So the evening is winding down with Kaitlyn when this banker looking wanker (i love when i get the chance to rhyme) walks in and as he passes behind the two of us asks
"So what's good in here?" and even though we were totally rudely interrupted we both kind of shrug, say we don't know then say "uhh, wine." He proceeds to sit down next to me. Word to the wise... DO NOT ENGAGE - DO NOT.
Did I mention that Kaitlyn was wearing a SMOKING HOT drapy sweater dress like you see in the movies, and some kick ass heels? Hot-ness. Me on the other hand - jeans, grey tank, black tshirt with my orange shruggy thing, plus black flats. Hair in a pony tail. Not exactly my come-hither attire is all I'm saying. But dude is next to me. Great.
And turns to me and asks, "Does it smell like steak in here?" And we both reply "umm, no not really." And he goes.... "Oh maybe it's you."
AND THEN HE SNIFFS ME. At my shoulder and my neck. Let me repeat that... dude motherfucking SNIFFS ME. Then comes to the conclusion that "Heh... you smell like steak."
Without batting an eyelash i reply, "Yeah i get that a lot." And then he SNIFFS AGAIN and says "And oregano." To which I reply, "Well I am Italian."
This entire time I am trying to shoulder him out of my conversation with Kaitlyn by completely turning my back to him. Apparently my "get the fuck away" stance isn't working. So Kaitlyn and I promptly jump off the bar stools and head out to find a cab.
And although I was joe cool in the bar, the minute we walk outside I am all I SMELL LIKE STEAK!?? AND PIZZA SAUCE?!! And Kaitlyn is laughing and assuring me that no, i do not, but that wow that guy was a D-Bag. But even by the time I get home I am still unsure so when I retell this story to claire I eventually make her smell me and tell me the verdict. Her response: "You smell like a WOMAN. Like vanilla and cinnamon and everything GOOD". Well I guess that's perk number two of working in a bakery.
But seriously... WHAT THE FUCK?!
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