No. No I wouldn't.

Hooray! I get to add to the list of freakish, inappropriate ways I've been hit on. Yay for Monday!

It's Bike Week here in the MB, and I met a French-Canadian biker at Broadway at the Beach. It wasn't a pre-planned meeting or anything, just a random moment of two complete strangers talking.

Suddenly, he asked if I was married and had kids. I said no. He asked if we could have lunch. I said no. Then, he asked if maybe later on, I'd like to wash him.

Me: "Perhaps you meant something else in English?"
Him: "No, I meant you could wash me. Then I could wash you. Then we could see what else might happen."
Me: (Wondering if maybe my deodorant had ceased to function) "Thanks. I had a shower today. Washed my hair and everything."
Him: (giving me the up-and-down) "You could wash me."
Me: "Really? Ha ha. No. Have a nice visit to Myrtle Beach. Bye-bye."

Seriously, I have an abundance of bath products and I prefer to use them in my own home, in private. Alone. Solo. Soltanta, in Italiano.

See, the thing about getting hit on, for me, is that it's rarely someone I'm interested in. It's NEVER, EVER Clive Owen. Or Robin Zander. Or even the one semi-attractive guy at work. And it's almost never, ever in a way that would make me go "huh, maybe I oughta..."

It's almost always in a way that's just... ummm... No.

Like the roadie who asked if I'd care to demonstrate my Monica Lewinski impersonation in exchange for a pair of Bun E. Carlos's drumsticks as I waited in line for a Cheap Trick concert.

No. Not even the fact that you are Robin Zander's gardener in your "spare time" tempts me.

He had the nerve to find me later, after the show, and ask again.

Still no.

Or the man who, on the same day, said he had 50 bucks and would I like to go have a drink with him and keep the change?

Oh, so you think I'm going to lose my place in line (first, of course) for a pina colada and 20 dollars? No.

Or the guy who saw me being sassy with a co-worker at my stupid carry-out job and followed me outside, said I seemed "feisty," and then asked if I'd like to go home with him and "do it."

Me: "It?"
Him: "Yeah, you know, 'do it.' With me."

No, no I wouldn't.