I took some time to go peruse the offerings at our local bookstore today. As I walked past a young Asian man sitting in an overstuffed chair he caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back (because I’m a nice person) and watched his eyes light up and the wheels start turning. I was instant bait. This isn’t a situation I’ve been in in awhile, given the fact that I’ve been pregnant recently and I’m usually shopping with two little kids. I’m a reasonably attractive woman, but there is no turn off like a toddler and a bulging belly.

I hurried into a remote corner of the children’s section to get away. While checking out the bargain books I came to the sudden realization that he was about three feet away and blocking the exit. He opened his mouth to speak, and his phone rang, giving me opportunity to flee, once again.

I headed over to the journals and scrapbooking paraphernalia and hid myself behind the greeting cards. This was my brief moment of alone time and I didn’t want it ruined by some hopeful dude out looking for Miss Right. After a safe amount of time had passed, I walked over to the section of summer reading I was originally looking at. Within seconds he was back like a hungry puppy after a steak. I tried to ignore him, but he was trying very hard to catch my eye so he could say something. At that point I resorted to the Left Hand Dance. Its’ the one where you adjust your hair with the left hand, caress the cheap summer romance novels with your left hand, even pick your nose with your left hand just to wave the glittering rock on your ring finger in the guy’s face, praying he’ll see you’re taken and move on.

After doing this through two tables of books he finally spoke, “How are you doing?” I had to try not to laugh. The guy had been stalking me for twenty minutes and in all that time the best opening line he could come up with was “How are you doing?” This is not a productive opener. This leaves your prey the chance to respond with the classic shut-down “Fine.” Which I did. Something better would be, “Oh, do you like origami? Do you teach/have a preschooler? Is that why you’re looking at preschool readiness and origami design books?” I mean, really, pick something to say with substance, something that is going to require more than a monosyllable reply. Find a common interest. I’m in a bookstore, for heaven’s sake- the place is full of topics to choose from and the one in my hand is your best bet. But, no. How are you doing. Please.

He then asked me if I was looking for anything in particular (Umm, do you work here? Are you trying to sound like a salesclerk?) I told him I was just browsing and then quickly browsed away. He looked like he was going to follow so I gave up and walked to my car checking over my shoulder all the way home.

I used to have stuff like this happen to me a lot. When I was single, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but when it happens after you get married it just feels weird. I’m flattered, but seriously, leave me the heck a lone and take a hint mm-kay?

One summer when Chris and I were newlyweds we worked from eight to five for the City of Santa Clara, then we would drive halfway home to San Mateo where Chris worked at a store in the mall to earn a little more money for when we went back to college. I didn’t have a second job, or a ride home, so I usually spent three hours wandering the mall or reading in the bookstore across the street. I got hit on A LOT. And it got old explaining that, yes, the ring on my finger does actually mean I’m married, and no, I’m not kidding. It got to be where I couldn’t read without some guy interrupting me looking to hook up. Many of these guys were normal and once I said , “Thanks, but I’m married,” they would go their way without event. But of course you have to have the losers who buy me a drink even after I tell them I’m married, or the pathetic excuse for a guy who upon hearing that I was married asked, “Are you happily married?” My instant thought was, “even if I weren’t I wouldn’t crawl in the sack with you, you bastard.” Fortunately, the withering stare of shock and disgust I effortlessly shot him was enough to make him just get up and walk away.

At this point, I knew I had to do something to make myself completely unattractive to the opposite sex. So I began each visit to the bookstore with a quick trip to the pregnancy section. I’d pick up What to Expect When You’re Expecting and a copy of Fit Pregnancy then hide whatever I was really reading inside one of those. It had a ninety percent success rate in getting single guys to leave me alone. Once I saw a young man check me out from across the reading section. He started to walk my way, so I raised what I was reading to cover half of my face, knowing that there was no way he could miss the word PREGNANCY screaming in his direction from the cover of the magazine. He took three steps, read the title of what I was reading, stopped dead in his tracks and walked the opposite direction. Now that is what I call effective.

To the guys out there who have to put up with this stuff, I’m sorry. But, please, save yourself some time and check the ring finger. You never know. And if she is married, don’t keep hitting on her. That only proves you’re scum.