Objects in Mirror are Stranger than they Appear

Dear Person who invented the pick-up move “pace-her-on the freeway-with-your-window- rolled-down-and-ask-for-her-cell-phone-number”,

It doesn’t work. Furthermore, the people who have followed suit aren’t exactly the type of guy that would put it to practical or honorable use.

I have had to deal with this particular mode of picking-upness twice now and, admittedly, the first time was rather entertaining. I had the Mari-meister in the car and we had a proper giggle about it. She was available to take down your number by means of you holding up your fingers through your car window going 75 mph down the 210 freeway. We called, you talked, it was awkward, you said I was pretty and I thanked you and promptly erased your #. I’ll admit it. I was flattered. I never though much of my profile but apparently it was stalk-worthy, for 10 miles or so. Mari and I still laugh whenever it comes up because it really was quite a ridiculous situation. We were on our way back from church even – can you get more random?

Apparently yes, this last time I was quite put out by you invention’s antics. Word to the wise – being paced by a black mustang for 6 consecutive miles on the 101 at 1 in the morning is freaky enough, but when they driver is trying to coax you into exchanging phone numbers, that’s just downright creepy.

I know very few self respecting girls that would just give their phone number to a person they passed on the street. “Hey you’re cute – what’s your #?”. A bit of conversation and impressions must be had before an exchange can take place. Why would that be different in cars? I’ve struck up conversations with people I’ve been stuck next to in traffic before – and if they were charming enough I’d give them my number and we’d chat through our sigalert, no problem.

You really need to stipulate proper times and places for such a bold move because if done correctly, it could be quite charming. But if it’s done badly with poor timing, like I said before, Creep City.

Still checking my rearview,
~Liz