Why I shouldn’t talk to a male…

So … it happened..again. I went out in public, spoke to a guy, and embarrassed myself.. twice in one day. A two-fer, it was wonderful..no, no it wasn’t (sarcasm was inserted there if you didn’t catch it).

So here’s the deal. I can chat it up with a woman, when I come out of my shell or if alcohol is involved, no problem. However, you insert a male into a conversation with me, and I am a bumbling idiot. Don’t believe me, let me tell you what happened yesterday…er, Saturday.

First, my mom and I head to Best Buy to pay her credit card bill and pick up something she needed for her car, a vent mount for her phone or something and a charger for the dvd player. So we get this guy to help us because Lord knows that finding things in that store is sometimes tedious. As we walk back to the TV section I remember I wanted to get an Amazon TV stick. So as I see the Amazon TV stick, I also notice ROKU. Now, understand this. I don’t watch a lot of TV. Well, really I don’t watch any TV. Just mainly Netflix, and it’s rare. So I’m looking at these two boxes, trying to decide which one to get. They have this little graph there, and well… it didn’t help. So I walk up to these two fellas- don’t worry they were employees. And the conversation went something like this….

Guy: Hi, can we help you? 
Me: Yeah. So I have Amazon Fire TV Box right now, and I’m looking for something to go in my bedroom. And I don’t know why I just told you where it was going, because that is kind of creepy. But anyway, this is going in my bedroom and I don’t know what the difference is between these two things. *holds up the Amazon Stick box and the Roku box*
Him: You have the Amazon Prime account and box right now? 
me: Yes.
Him: Then stick with that.
Me: Are they the same thing?
Him: Yes, they’re the same thing.
Me: Okay, thanks.

*I walk away and put the Roku box back just as my mom walks over. We proceed to walk to the check out, and I turn around. . . this is where I turn into an idiot.. again.*

Me: Don’t pretend like knowing where this is gonna go didn’t just make your day. It’s okay that it did. 
Him: I mean if you’re inviting me, then I would need to know….
Me: You just said that in front of my mom. *man I must look so cool right now*

I have to turn around to keep walking because by now I know my face is red, and my mom is right there! My mom.. I turn to look at her and tell her how weird I am for saying that, and rambling and just have verbal diarrhea. She. Just. Laughs. Good to know that my mom finds my fumbling in conversations with men funny.

FAST FORWARD TO LATER IN THE NIGHT….

I’m at a bar with two friends and we’re leaving. Now, get this. My friends and I are dressed just… as normal chicks. And in this bar we’re in, these chicks are dressed to the nines. My friends and I are in jeans, chucks or flats, and t-shirts. Normal, every day wear. So we’re leaving and this dude, who I admit, I may have been checking out. I mean, he was looking at me.. so I looked back. And he was big, buff like. Anyway, so we’re leaving… and he’s leaving with his friend. So we are laughing at my curls.. how I look like a dog who stuck his head out the window. Anyone with curly hair knows, the heat from inside a bar makes your hair look like Diana Ross. Shit, I’m rambling again. Okay.. back to the dude. 

So, we’re leaving and laughing.. they’re leaving. They start asking where we’re going, because you can’t leave a bar at 1am. To which we respond we’re going home. For some reason, don’t ask me why, I don’t know what we were talking about or doing.. but I slapped the dude on his peck, and this happens…

 

Me: Did you just flex? Did your peck just bounce?
Him: No, they’re always like that.
Me: You did flex. They’re sticking out now. I can’t do that and show you what you look like because then I’d be sticking my boobs out and you’d be looking at them. *as I cover my boobs*
Him: I swear I didn’t. They are always like that.
Me: Yeah, Okay. I’m leaving now. Have a good night. 
My friends: Des, get in the car..and lock the door.

Apparently I have the worst case of verbal diarrhea ever because I just can not stop no matter where I am. It’s like my brain shuts down when I notice anyone from the male species and I fumble my way through conversations saying the stupidest things. 

It’s official.. I should not talk to men.