I thought I'd been asked out at the most inappropriate venue, but then I read Scarlet's post about getting asked out at her grandfather's funeral!
My own story was ridiculous enough - at the memorial service for a beloved professor and mentor, when I was a senior in college, I got chatted up by another professor - who was also, mind you, more than twice my age.
Dumbstruck with grief, the tears still wet on my face, I didn't realize he was hitting on me until after he had walked away, leaving me with his business card!
Then I read Scarlet's story...Then one of our volunteers at work yesterday said, "This guy started chatting me up in the garbage area at my apartment complex."
Neither of us could stop laughing. I mean, what kind of pick-up line does someone use at the garbage area? Come here often? What's in your bag? Imagine meeting someone like you at a place like this!
The saga continued...I told Mr. Riot Kitty about all of these stories, and it turns out he had the best one of all...but I'll let him share that one.
So here's the Tuesday challenge, people: where is the most inappropriate place you've been hit on?
11 comments:
Quite a while ago I had a roommate that was a social butterfly. There were always people coming and going from our apartment so it did not bother me that on a Halloween night there was a girl that I had not met hanging out on the couch watching TV. I had to get ready for another graveyard shift at the post office so I was in the bathroom shaving, as you do.
The door opens and in comes this girl who was watching TV. She walks behind me, drops her skirt and makes with the waterfall sound effects on the toilet. I run out, close the door behind me, and hear her saying "I don't mind!"
Well I did mind so I waited for her to come out to finish shaving.
She followed me around the apartment a bit, then I left for work. The next day I found that she had slept with my roommate so I guess that it worked out for her.
i dunno, i think i may in fact have the Most Inappropriate Attempted Pick-Up Story Ever.
when i first started college, i was briefly an Animal Science major. the school may claim many things when it describes the Animal Science program, but i'll tell you what it meant: FARM.
anyways, one of my lab classes functioned like a farm intro, and every week there was some new ridiculousness happening. i told some girl at a bar what class i was in, and this clearly drunken person asked me if we'd gotten to the cow with a porthole in its side. that was patently absurd, so i dismissed that as someone trying to hoodwink the new kid.
then one week i show up to class, held in a large indoor arena, and there is one lone cow tethered to the far side, contentedly munching some hay.
...
the TA is very evasive, but eventually gets down to business, explaining about the fistulated cow. yes, they do indeed install a porthole (fistula) on the cow's side. it goes straight through to one of the stomachs (rumen), and let me make it clear that the cow could give a damn about this. the fistula doesn't hurt or affect the cow's lifespan or quality of life. so the only one so completely horrified about the FUCKING PORTHOLE IN THE SIDE OF THE COW is me.
you CANNOT just spring shit like that on someone!! i should have been emotionally prepared!! someone from the Urban Student Farm Integration Program should have come by to sit me down and break the news to me gently!
not only is there a COW WITH A FUCKING PORTHOLE IN IT, but it becomes clear that all the students are meant to queue up to don full arms-length gloves to INSERT THEIR VERY OWN ARMS _INSIDE_ AFOREMENTIONED PORTHOLE.
...?!!?!!
so obviously, i get in the back of the line, to allow myself time to think. i could feign sudden illness. i could try to gaslight the TA, make him think i'd done it already. i could set fire to the arena. options, options.
eventually i pull myself up by my bootstraps and think, "hey, if my completely average classmates here can hack this, surely i can too." none of the 18 people who had gone before had dropped dead. there were a few messy casualties, but i've been watching, i now know tricks to avoid getting horrible cow gut juice on me (EW EW EW). this is just like The Princess Bride, and now i know the secrets of the fireswamp.
i'll be okay.
i'll be fine.
i know to put on 3 of the arm gloves. i know exactly how far to stand away from the cow. i know to wait about 30 seconds after the prior person removes their arm before stepping up to inset my own.
i can do this.
...
finally, after literally about 2 hours, it is my turn. every one else has left, because let me tell you: you don't linger after having your arm in a motherfucking cow, my friend.
turns out, in a completely gross way, rummaging in a cow's gut is FASCINATING. i mean, that is some far-out information you are getting firsthand. so there i am, getting my learn on but good.
...
"so, ah...where're ya from?"
...what? i...no. no. this is not happening. surely the TA is just making conversation.
"pretty cool cow, huh? hey, you doin' anything after this?"
SERIOUSLY?!! i have my arm stuck very tightly INSIDE A PORTHOLE COW'S BELLY. you're finding this ROMANTIC?!
i start to subtly withdraw my arm from the cow so that i might beat a polite hasty retreat, and discover that i am STUCK. a cow's rumen is like a big muscular hay-baler, not the squishy thing one thinks of when one thinks "stomach". i mean, it took me a solid 5 minutes just to get my slender co-ed's arm IN there, 5 minutes of trying to punch through the compacted, completely disgusting fluorescent green hay. and the digestion machine has moved on around me, and now my arm is packed in there pretty tight.
FUCK. i'm trapped in a cow, and the TA is hitting on me! COLLEGE FUCKING SUCKS, DUDE!!
lest you think i could not possibly feel more victimized at that moment, the clearly bored out of her mind cow decides that the world might be more interesting somewhere else, and blithely starts to WALK AWAY, dragging me along beside her.
i curse her name for a second, but quickly realize that she's saved my ass, because moseying along has moved things around internally, and i am able to safely and quickly withdraw my arm.
i bolt out of there, silently screaming, "THANK YOU, PORTHOLE COW!!!"
i think that i win for Most Inappropriate Pick-Up Story for these reasons:
1. it was my TA, which i am certain was against university rules and considered harassment.
2. i had MY ARM inside A COW'S STOMACH.
that's at least 2 different and unique kinds of inappropriate.
EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWw
Kirsten, you win!
Without a doubt, Kirsten takes the prize!
Your hub's story was pretty intense. Love the part about the waterfall sound effects on the toilet!
while puking my brains out in the coed stalls at college. anyone asking me out while I puked is NO ONE I want to go out with!!
OMG! It just gets better and better! This is my new mantra: "anyone asking me out while I puked is NO ONE I want to go out with!!"
Geeze I had a boring life.
I don't think I had any inappropriate hits..
Kirsten wins big time..
:-( I am still waiting for the first time someone hits on me...though these days, obviously, I would prefer they didn't. I guess you could say the weirdest place I have been hit on is anywhere my wife is...
I finally remembered an inappropriate place I was hit on.
Before I was married I was a Psychiatric Tech at a State Mental
Hospital.
I use to be assigned to taking a group of patients to a weekly dance on the campus.
A very nice looking young man would occasionally ask me to dance.
I never did dance with him..
one day I got a letter from him suggesting a date when he was released.
I freaked out a little because I knew those letters were censored by the staff before they were sent out and usually didn't get mailed.
A couple of the smart ass guys working there made sure this one got mailed. They would grin and wink at me when ever we met each other in the halls.
Being the polite sweet young woman I was at the time I refrained from flipping them off
I've only been hit on by bosses and managers, which while awful, doesn't seem so bad now... Plus I was fortunate enough to be able to quit. With a prof, it isn't quite so easy.
Sarah was once a teaching assistant at a school for kids with severe mental and physical disabilities. She was asked out by a member of staff in the school parking lot one day. We've since discovered that he's asked out several people we know. This is a large city, so we feel this can only represent a small proportion of the veritable army of women who've also come across him and turned him down.
For my part, I was hit on at a wedding (I was not the bride, he was not thr groom) by the gentleman seated to my left. Sarah was sitting on my right. He was undeterred by this, and I have to give him credit. I shouldn't have told him we were a couple - he took that as encouragement. As the night wore on, he became desperate and at one point graphically described what he would like to do with me in his hotel room upstairs. I had to point out to him that these deeds were, without doubt, things I'd like done to me, but that I would prefer that my GIRLFRIEND did them. Sadly, as he had fixated on me all evening, Sarah and I left in a cab at the end of the night, and he slept alone.
More recently, I was propositioned mid performance. I actually had to say 'I don't know whether you're heckling me or hitting on me'. She came up to me afterward and tried to drunkenly explain that her eating disorder put her off cunnilingus. I wish I could explain what this meant, but at that point she was ushered out by her boyfriend.
All of these examples, of course, are like pre-teen groupies huddled at the feet of Kirsten's rockstar of a holey cow story.
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