Nobody ever talks to me at the gym. (Excuse me...the "club". According to them, I don't belong to something so common as a gym). I don't know if it's my scowling demeanor or my "Fuck You and the Horse You Rode In On" T-Shirt, but for whatever reason, I'm not verbally approachable.
However, the other day, some guy creaked over to me (he out-aged me by a couple of decades) and said, "Are you a Berkeley woman?"
First of all, what the hell kind of a pick-up line is that?
Second of all, why the hell would he think I might be a Berkeley woman? Did it show on my face somewhere? Was the question a veiled slight toward my hemp shorts? Was the fact that I'm too lazy to shave my legs all the time THAT obvious? What?
I mean, yeah, I went to Cal my freshman year, but where on my body did that manifest itself?
"Yeah, but only for a year," I said to the sexagenarian. "How would you know that?"
"Well, it says so on your shirt."
OK, first of all (or is it third of all) remember when I blathered on about how strangers will approach me if I'm wearing some big league school attire (or if they want 50 cents for the bus)? Well, here we go again.
Turns out, the laugh was on him, because I wasn't wearing a Berkeley shirt. I was wearing a Barenaked Ladies shirt, and he realized his mistake and instantly started back pedaling. I stood up and tried to engage him in conversation and he merely introduced me to his wife at the next machine. Suddenly neither one of them were interested in talking to me, even though I actually attended their damn Alma Mater! The important thing, to them I suppose, was that I was no longer wearing THE SHIRT!
It was either that, or the goiter nobody seems to notice until I stand up.
However, the other day, some guy creaked over to me (he out-aged me by a couple of decades) and said, "Are you a Berkeley woman?"
First of all, what the hell kind of a pick-up line is that?
Second of all, why the hell would he think I might be a Berkeley woman? Did it show on my face somewhere? Was the question a veiled slight toward my hemp shorts? Was the fact that I'm too lazy to shave my legs all the time THAT obvious? What?
I mean, yeah, I went to Cal my freshman year, but where on my body did that manifest itself?
"Yeah, but only for a year," I said to the sexagenarian. "How would you know that?"
"Well, it says so on your shirt."
OK, first of all (or is it third of all) remember when I blathered on about how strangers will approach me if I'm wearing some big league school attire (or if they want 50 cents for the bus)? Well, here we go again.
Turns out, the laugh was on him, because I wasn't wearing a Berkeley shirt. I was wearing a Barenaked Ladies shirt, and he realized his mistake and instantly started back pedaling. I stood up and tried to engage him in conversation and he merely introduced me to his wife at the next machine. Suddenly neither one of them were interested in talking to me, even though I actually attended their damn Alma Mater! The important thing, to them I suppose, was that I was no longer wearing THE SHIRT!
It was either that, or the goiter nobody seems to notice until I stand up.
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