When people ask me why I'm single (which happens kind of a lot), my usual answer is that I really don't have very good luck when it comes to guys. Then whoever I'm talking to says something along the lines of "oh Hannah it can't be that bad" and I'm like "you don't know my life". Well, today pretty much summed up that bad luck, and while its a little embarrassing, its too perfect not to share.
For the past couple of days, my stomach hasn't really wanted to be a part of Team Hannah. Today I went to the doctor for it, and she recommended some over the counter medication for me to try, which meant going to Target. Since I don't have a car, I have to rely on Portland's public transportation system, which is always an adventure. While I was on the MAX, there was a super creepy guy who looked like he was about my age who had decided that the best way for him to score with the ladies was to ask every single girl on the MAX for her phone number. The best part was he asked everyone the exact same way. He would get their attention, then ask how they were doing, and before they had a chance to answer he would go "yeah OK can I get your number?". His success rate was zero, in case anyone was wondering. He also asked me, but luckily it was right as we were pulling up to my stop, so I was able to quickly exit while the old lady next to me laughed at his face for having no game.
Then I got to Target. The medicine that the doctor recommended is called Simethicone, which is an anti-bloating medication. Unfortunately for me, they put all of the stomach related products together, so the anti-bloating stuff is right next to a pretty large selection of laxatives. I couldn't remember what the name of the stuff was, so I spent a pretty solid amount of time in this section intently studying the labels hoping that the name would jump out at me, since I was too lazy to take out my phone to figure out. After about 5 minutes of this, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I look over and there is a ridiculously good looking man just sort of looking at me while I'm examining all of these boxes of laxatives and other fun stomach things. We make eye contact, and he gives me this look that just says "yikes. That's a huge bummer". Oh my God, I WANTED TO DIE. You know when you can tell that your face is bright red because you start to feel really warm? That's what was happening, so I just sort of walked away, then came back and grabbed the box after I made sure the aisle was clear.
Then we saw each other again at the register and made super awkward eye contact.
So yeah, that sums it up. A creepy dude asked for my number (after striking out with everyone else around us) and a hottie saw me checking out stomach meds.
Note: I do understand that I shouldn't be embarrassed. Stomach issues happen to everyone. But still, he was really good looking, and it was just so uncomfortable. Oh, and for everyone who is like "well if he was in that aisle too, he's obviously having some sort of stomach issues", that might have been true, but that is not really something that I want to bond over.