Last night Kent and I went to Wendys for dinner.
Because it was hot and I am pregnant and Wendys has a great dollar menu.
We went inside to eat, because it's more "fancy" than just eating in the car.
And because their AC is set a lot lower than ours.
I sat down to wait for Kent to order and receive our food.
It took a long time, so I sat there alone for a long time.
Also waiting for his food up by the counter was a tall man in a bright red shirt. He kept looking back at where I was sitting.
Alone. And smiling (I was excited to get my husband and my food).
After a while, this tall, red-shirted man came towards my table, stuck out his hand, and introduced himself. He asked me what my name was. And then--he asked if I was waiting for someone or if he could join me.
I told the truth. I was actually waiting for my husband, who was still up at the counter, oblivious to the fact that his wife was getting "hit on."
What could I have said to ease that poor man's embarrassment? He backed away so fast he nearly fell over. He apologized profusely. He went back up, got his food, and left, probably sacrificing the fanciness and AC of eating inside to eat alone in his car.
Kent came back and I told him. We laughed. But also felt sorry for the man.
(Of course, I have to admit that it made me feel good about myself. I must hide seven months of pregnancy quite well.)
Kent was afraid that he's got competition and that he's going to have to woo me.
No, there's no competition. But by all means--woo me.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
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