Such was the case this weekend when my best friend, The Law, and I found ourselves in Georgetown's Barnes & Noble. It was about 3 p.m. on a Sunday. We were a little crunk off of the pitcher of mimosas we had consumed at Alero for $9.99 just minutes before. And, quite frankly we were a little dirty from a combo of vigorous bicycle riding and not showering. (Actually, maybe it was just me who hadn't showered.)
Anyway, there we were killing time before it was time for her to go do something productive and me to go take my daily unemployment nap (those don't stop just because it's the weekend), when two dudes came out of nowhere and started talking.
No. 1: "Hey, uh, are these the bargain books?"
No. 2: "Yeah. These are giving out a bargain book vibe."
No. 1: "Yeah. This sign is totally giving out that vibe."
Me: "Um. Because the sign says 'Bargain Books.'"
No. 1: "Oh yeah. So what kinds of books are in the bargain book section?"
The Law: "Are they talking to us?"
Me: "I think so, but I'm not sure."
Those last two lines were said as The Law and I decided to exit what was definitely one of the most confusing interactions between homo sapiens that I've ever participated in. Or, sort of participated in, as it was hard to tell if these two homos (as in "sapiens") were just high and talking to themselves or trying to pull a Mystery and pick a couple of bitches up in a daytime, book store setting.
We assumed it was the latter because when we walked away to go marvel (and shed a single tear) at a newly re-released copy of "Christian the Lion," the touching story of two homos (as in "sapiens" and "sexuals") who reunited with their pet lion one year after realizing YOU CAN'T F*CKING KEEP A LION AS A PET, the two stammering dudes left the bargain section and proceeded up the escalator, presumably to go hit on other people simply trying to snarkily mind their own business.
And normally that would've been the end. But then The Law had to go and say this: "Wow. We're assholes." At first I simply smiled and nodded in avid agreement, but then it hit me and -- if just for a split second -- I felt remorse. What if those guys simply couldn't read? Or what if they were blind?? After all, they only felt a "bargain book" vibe when the sign was clearly on display! Not to mention, it was unclear who they were talking to. The one time I managed to look up to inform them of what the sign said, I wasn't greeted with eye contact, which would've indicated to me they were, indeed, trying to make conversation. Instead I noticed No. 1's eyes trained on The Law's cleavage and No. 2's staring at my legs (my haunches are pretty sweet), or maybe my shorts (which were almost as sweet as my haunches).
Why would two young men focus their attention on a woman's body parts if they were legitimately trying to make conversation? Yep. No one's that much of a creepy douchebag, right?
But then I remembered we were in Georgetown. Not to mention, nary a seeing eye dog (or horse!) was around. So my guess is that those dudes weren't blind. As for being illiterate, however, I guess I'll never know. Either way, I quickly rebounded from having felt bad about being a bit of a bitch. Like I said, the times I feel sorry for dudes are fleeting, especially because I'm pretty sure those dudes will eventually find some singles ready to mingle once they reach the self-help section.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go buff that glass ceiling. JUST KIDDING! I don't care about that stuff. Not when it's time for my unemployment nap! Pip-pip, cherio!