Monday, March 21, 2011

Hate it when guys hit on you? Have a kid.

People tell me all the time that I look just like Angelina Jolie, especially my two, non-jealous boyfriends, Alexander Skarsgard and Zachary Quinto.  Unfortunately, somewhere between them telling me that and winning the Pulitzer of Blogging, I wake up.

So, no, I've never really been mistaken for Angelina.  But, just a few years ago, I was considered by many to be quite the hot young thing.  I had a string of boyfriends, and always guys fighting over me.  (Any woman who tells you she doesn't like guys competing for her attention is a filthy liar, or has never had it happen.)  I could go to clubs and the doorman wouldn't make me pay the cover charge, and I never had to buy my own drinks once I was inside.

Even the first few years after I was married, it wasn't so bad.  I could flash my ring and got to say, "I'm flattered, but no thanks, I'm married."  At my work, where I got bonuses for large sales, I'd take my ring off.  "Oh, I totally get that you only want to keep a betta fish and a few tetras.  I just think they'd look amazing in this 250-gallon under some metal halide lighting."  (Of course, I got my comeuppance once I got a stalker, who called the store about 20 times a day looking for me, and didn't understand why I never came on the service calls to his house.  The manager finally asked him not to come in anymore.)

Despite getting creeped out by overbearing older guys a few times, I always enjoyed my harmless flirting.  It was a nice self-esteem boost, and I always made sure I wasn't leading anyone on.

Then I got pregnant.

If you think baby bumps are cute, it's because you're a woman.  I have never heard any of my guy friends say, "Check out that hot pregnant chick at the next table."  Pregnant women can be pretty, even beautiful, but never attractive.

It's not any better once you have the baby.  I've been out at the store or a restaurant before, and felt like a guy was checking me out, until he saw the stroller.  Might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on him.

So you better believe it made my Thursday when, last week, I got hit on walking to my car on my lunch break.  It was just a simple, "Hey girl, you're looking really nice today," from a guy I passed, but it made me feel awesome.  Being the youngest in my building, I always try to dress nice and professional so that I fit in with my co-workers.  Unfortunately, it also makes me feel really frumpy, and dressed too old for my age.  So for some random stranger to think I looked good in my work clothes, especially enough to tell me so, put me on Cloud 9.

Then I was out with my husband yesterday, when he says, "I just totally embarrassed that guy in the next row over.  I caught him checking you out."  I started craning my neck around.  "Really?  Where?"

Hubby:  "Chill out, it was just some college kid."

Me:  "A young guy was checking me out?  Score."

Hubby:  "He was a dirty hippy.  You two can weave hemp bracelets and cry over global warming into your soy lattes together."

Me:  "As long as he'll stop crying every once in a while to tell me I'm pretty."

What makes it really unfair is how good becoming a grandparent has been for my parents' self-esteem.  They love being out somewhere with one of the babies and having a stranger ask them, "So, is the little one keeping you up at night?"  Then they get to say, "Actually, this is my grandchild."

Stranger:  "Really?  You look way too young to be grandparents!"

Parents:  "Actually, we have four grandkids."

Bleh.  I've already decided that, instead of turning 26, I'm just gonna turn 25 again this year.  And so far, the only two people on the guest list are that guy I passed in the Food Lion parking lot, and that college hippy.

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