Lowes plumbing guy with a British accent: “You need any help there, lass?”
Me: “Nope, I’m good, thanks.”
twenty minutes of pondering later
Me: “Ok, I need help. This shopping list was given to me by volunteers and I have no idea what some of these things are.”
LPGWABA: “Not to worry, love!”
Insert ten-fifteen minutes of plumbing discussion here, in which I repeatedly rebuff and ignore flirting attempts and am obviously getting a little annoyed. He seems confused that I haven’t offered him my phone number yet. I guess, in his mind, he had performed all the steps: complement my eyes, praise my school (I was wearing my Notre Dame jacket), and tell me I’m a hero for wanting to work with low-income people.
LPGWABA: “You better watch out, a woman talking plumbing to me- tends to get me all excited.” (puts a hand to his heart dramatically)
Me: Derisive snort. Mean, but I couldn’t help myself.
LPGWABA: Taken aback for a moment. “You’re one of those independent lasses, aren’t you? Like… strongly independent.”
Me: “Yep, pretty much.”
My momma taught me that, mister 😉