|"You're out of your element, Anna"|
First offender: the cute guy who works at my bank. He's 5'6, slightly balding, and is swimming in his button-up work shirt because it's about two sizes too big. He probably has small hands too but I can't confirm that.
And, he refuses to look at me. I've taken it as a personal challenge to turn his head. I'll wear a low cut dress. I'll smack on some lip gloss. I'll even swipe on my lucky blush. NOTHING!
I feel like even if I walked into the bank dressed in nothing but a bikini, high heels, and a bucket of suds--because I'd just washed my car, naturally--he wouldn't even turn to look. Is he gay? Is he dead? What is going on? At this point, I've resigned myself to the fact that I have a better chance escaping from Alcatraz than catching his eye.
Second offender: the sweet guy who works at the cheese counter at Whole Foods. He refuses to acknowledge my charm. It's outrageous. I'm outraged. I'm putting my best flirt foot forward and he's acting like he's got better shit on his (cheese) plate. He gets really nervous when we talk and refuses to make eye contact with me. He just scoots around behind the cheese counter (like anyone gives a shit about his stinkin' feta.) Arrrrrrgh!
I basically have a Ph.D. in dealing with squirelly guys (it's an honorary degree), but these guys are badgering me with their indifference to my charms. My mojo is like a broken microphone: Is this thing on? *tap tap tap* Maybe they have mojo deflector rings that they've won in a Cracker Jack box? Maybe Mercury is in retrograde and it's making them go haywire? All I know is that this aggression will not stand, man. You hear me? IT WILL NOT STAND!