Updated: Jan 10, 2020
If you follow me on Instagram, then you've probably noticed that I celebrated a birthday last week. (I'm 30 y'all!!)
Among the millions of things I did to celebrate, I went to a jazz club one night. While I was there, I noticed a handful of men who seem to be interested in me. These were men of all ages and persuasions, which is completely fine with me. But the thing is.... not ONE of them approached me.
Now, please understand that I'm not that chick that thinks every man who turns my way wants to get with me. Quite the contrary... My friends have to actually bring it to my attention (and sometimes even convince me) when someone is showing interest me. But the attention I was getting from multiple angles at one time was almost enough to make my introverted self run and hide.
Let me set the scene... just so you won't think I'm making this up.
First, let me say that I was dressed fairly modestly- black jeans, flow-y top, chunky heel. I was snazzy, but nothing to drool over.
The guy who was supposed to be manning the door not only clumsily greeted me 3 times in a row, but left his post to escort me inside and waited by the hostess desk until my party and I were seated. I even have a hunch that he's behind the reason why our 45-minute wait turned into a quick 5 minutes.
A man sitting at the bar was burning a hole in the back of my head the whole night. Every...single... time I turned around, there he was.... staring in my direction and smiling slyly. I don't even want to know what was on his mind.... *shivers*
The saxophone player had an imaginary bulls eye on me. He never broke his gaze, even following me all the way to the bathroom and all the way back to my seat. During his breaks on stage he would stand to the side of the room, continuing to stare. And every time I looked up, I noticed that he would inch closer and closer to our table, but never came over to say hello.
The only one that did approach us was a very drunk man who asked to take a picture with us so that he could show his friends back in Chicago how beautiful we were. I would have agreed to anything just to get him to stop spitting in my face when he spoke.
Now, I was with some pretty astonishingly gorgeous women that night. And my first instinct is usually to believe that the stares, smiles, nods, and gestures are for the people in my vicinity. I'm really careful to rule out those possibilities before I assume anybody is checking for me. How embarrassing is it to make flirty eyes with a guy across the room only for him to approach the woman behind you.... yeah I won't be that girl (again).