I'm Not Your Type

EXCERPT:

As I pulled the barstool out she said, "I'm not your type."

"Excuse me?"

"I've seen the girls you hang out with. I'm nothing like them." She looked at me like I was something she would scrape off the bottom of her shoe.

"Really? How are you different?"

"I'm not an empty-headed bimbo or a cheap piece of ass."

I thought about it for a second and said, "You're right. You're not like them at all. They're not in the least bit judgmental or hostile. They don't look down their noses at others not even the physics professor or concert pianist." I let that sink in before I went on. "They have mentioned how beautiful you are and how elegant and classy you seem. Don't worry. I'll tell them that since they're empty-headed bimbos and big-boobed airheads that they're too obtuse to recognize you for what you are." I turned to leave.

"Wait! What did you say to me?" she asked.

The bar got quiet and the whole place was staring at us. "What part? The part about you being beautiful and classy or my friends being obtuse?" In the eyes of the crowd I'd just gone from a potential predator to a rejected gentleman.

She blushed in embarrassment as her eyes darted to the faces around us. "Umm. Uhsit down," she whispered.

"Why would I want to do that? You've already said you're not my type."

"Stop. Let me explain. I didn't I never I mean you never please just shut up and sit down."

I settled on the stool and waved the bartender over for refills. After we got our drinks I sat and sipped my scotch. Slowly, the conversations around us started back up and the room filled with friendly banter.

Dettagli