Dear Jason at Diversity,
I'm just writing to tell you how in awe of you I am, and I'm not talking about those massive ram's horn earrings you had gaping from your earlobes. No, no-- I'm talking about the nonstop compliments you lavishly poured upon me the whole time you were piercing my ear (which, by the way, looks absolutely faboo and I'm so, so glad I decided to randomly swing by the shop due to an impulsive desire to get more holes punched in my flesh).
Let me tangentialize here for a moment and give you some advice for future attempts to hit on strange girls: it doesn't exactly win us over when the first thing you say to us is, "Wow, you know, you look a LOT like my ex-girlfriend." Or at least, it didn't exactly win ME over. Most guys I know don't hold much fondness for their ex, and I'm not exactly comfortable knowing that I look like some chick who probably screwed you over royally and totally messed with your heart, when you're holding a clamp and a big-ass needle and are aiming both in the direction of my head.
But, back to your flattery. Your incessant flattery. I appreciated it-- after calling me "beautiful" in that casual, nonchalant, matter-of-fact tone for the umpteenth time, I *almost* started to feel my self-confidence level hiccup out of the negatives-- but more so, I was impressed by it. How do you do that? How do any of you men do it-- tell a complete stranger that you find her attractive? Without the influence of drugs or alcohol? In an everyday setting like a grocery store or a tattoo parlor? I can't do that. I've never been able to do that. Even when the other person is my BOYFRIEND, I still struggle to do that.
Even more amazing is the fact that you continued to compliment me and flirt with me long after it became clear that I had no intention of reciprocating. I wasn't rude about it-- I didn't shoot you down or give you disdainful looks (again, you were holding instruments of pain in your hands, I'm not stupid)-- but I certainly never did anything to encourage you. I just blushed a lot, did that thing where I smile helplessly and, completely embarassed, look down. Though I dated a guy who accused me of "playing coy" precisely because of that action, so maybe you unwittingly misinterpreted my downcast eyelashes. I don't know.
In any case. I also want to thank you for making the whole procedure as laid-back for me as possible. For not rolling your eyes when I half-wailed, "Owwwww!" after the needle went through. For distracting me from the pain by screwing with my mind by saying, rather alarmed, "That was just a test run to see how you handled the stress; I haven't even PIERCED you yet!" My ensuing panic ("But that hurt! And that wasn't even the real THING??") successfully drew my attention from the throbbing in my left ear. And you let me panic as you kept swabbing my ear with whatever that stuff was until it was all cleaned and then you let me in on your little joke, and we had a good laugh about it while I tried to get my heart to stop hurling itself against my chest.
But, yeah. You're a cool guy. Thanks for everything. You started off my evening on a good note, and everything that followed only continued to improve my spirits.
P.S.: Thanks for the bumper sticker! I had seen them earlier when I'd paid at the register and had thought they were pretty cool. I won't actually put it on my bumper because I already have my limit of one (1) sticker on there, but I'm totally hanging onto it.
