That Sneezing Girl

Flashback to last night. At around 8:15, I met Neil at the gym. I spent 30 minutes on the Precor and another 10 with weights and then decided to call it a night. I kissed Neil goodbye (He was peddling fast on one of the bikes. We had been watching American Idol and laughing at the last girl, Mary Something? The one with all the voices in her head. Soooo funny.) Anyways, I threw on my Northwestern sweatshirt, grabbed my car keys and iPod and headed out of the locker room and toward the front entrance. I did manage to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way out and I marveled at the unevenness of my complexion and at how I really do look like I am about 12 years old when I have my hair in two pigtails. I was almost to the door and then I sneezed. It was one of those sneezes that make you jump a little and miss a step and this guy who was near the door laughed a little and said "Bless you!" I smiled, laughing at myself a little, and said "Thank you."

I suppose it was the smile? Because I really looked terrible. I had been sweating for 40 minutes, my skin was totally broken out and I had sloppy pig tails in my hair... But as I pushed the door open to the outside, the nice guy who said "Bless you" said to his friend, "There's that sneezing girl. She's really cute."

It took me a moment to process what was happening. But then it dawned on me... I was being hit on. I looked back and smiled, not wanting to be impolite, and then picked up my walking pace down the front steps of the gym and toward my car. The guy followed me and made some other comment about how cold it was and how I shouldn't sneeze... (He was clearly running out of material) I panicked and raced to my car, got in and drove away. I have no idea how old the guy was. He could have been 18... or 22? Maybe he was my age? Not a clue.

Interestingly, I had no idea what to do when he started hitting on me. I can't remember the last time a stranger did that to me. I was thinking that it was because I am older and married and so on... but now I think it might be because I don't put myself in situations where I could be hit on anymore. I rarely go to bars and if I do, I am with Neil. I mainly do things like go to the zoo and to dinner, almost always with Neil. When I am not with him, I go to the gym, the grocery store and work. Not prime locations for being hit on.

Anyway, because of my lack of recent being hit on experience, I totally freaked out and ran away from the guy. I do feel kind of bad about that. But what could I have said? “I am very flattered that you think I am cute, but I’m married.” At the time, running seemed to be the better option.

However, I did get in my car and smile to myself. No matter where you are in life, flattery always feels good. Like being complimented on a new outfit, or my curly hair, having a random guy at the gym think I am cute made me feel good. I know Neil thinks I am cute and that is a different kind of wonderful…that going through life, knowing every day that there is one person out there who thinks I am beautiful… But I am all about the occasional flattery from strangers too. So whoever that guy was last night…thanks for reminding me to feel good about myself -- even when I am a sweaty, sneezy mess.