"You're a blushing school girl. Or a blithering idiot. One of the two."
I vote blithering idiot.
While walking towards the elevator banks with a co-worker, a very handsome, very tall, very square-jawed guy with piercing blue eyes, gets out of the elevator and walks past us, checking his blackberry.
Our conversation, taking its obvious and natural course, turns into how I plan on spending the weekend spackling, sanding and painting some walls in my apartment (since it's going to rain). I mean, what else would two women in suits be talking about.
Square-Jaw, for some reason only god in heaven knows, has turned around, and is now standing behind me, listening to this INANITY. Listening to me yammer on about SPACKLE and SAND PAPER. And then, gets into the elevator.
And turns to me, in an attempt to start a normal, human-on-human conversation, and says, "You spackle?"
Clearly incapable of having a homosapien-like conversation, I respond, "Yeah, I guess, if I need to. Sometimes. I mean....uh, yeah. I guess. Uh, yeah."
Square Jaw, somewhat taken aback, but still hopeful of finding intelligent life in the elevator, tries again, "I hear guys talk about that stuff all the time, but never a young woman. "
As I start blushing furiously FURIOUSLY (like my head is about to explode off my neck) I respond, "Um, yeah. Spackle, I uh...sure. Sand paper. " And proceed to get out of the elevator.
THIS, folks, is why I'm still single. For all of my friends out there, feel free to abuse me like a substitute teacher. You know the number.