Dear Random Dude at the gas station,
You said, “I just gotta tell ya’, before I saw the ring. I was gonna flirt. But you outta know, you got it goin’ on. Your husband is a lucky guy.”
Thanks for that. Remarkably flattering today when I was rushing home to be closer to my own bathroom rather than defile the one in the office.
Nice as the compliment was, you might think about how your actions look. I mean, staring at a much smaller woman as she walks inside to pay. Still being there when she comes out even though it is clear you are finished with your transaction. If she’s observant, you’ve put her on alert. There’s a reason I had secured my purse with my non-dominant hand. Funny, that’s probably why you noticed my wedding ring. Wasn’t really expecting a confrontation, but I have to say you tripped an orange there.
For all I know, you spotted the tension. Maybe that’s why you felt compelled to explain yourself.
Honestly, I appreciate the explanation, but I still watched as you pulled out of the parking lot and got far enough away that you couldn’t see which direction I went. I certainly appreciated the compliment. And that was delivered like a real gentleman. Good call keeping the open door of your car between you and me there at the pumps. I knew it was impossible for you to lunge in my direction. Kudos to you for just delivering your line, getting in your car, and driving away.
I wish you the best of luck. And thanks for making me smile even though I wasn’t feeling so hot.