After a day in the house huddled over my computer with spreadsheets and numbers I got myself dolled up and headed for an evening out on the town. What does a poor organizer with no car and little money do on a Sunday?
Head to Barnes and Nobles! I live near the faux-downtown of Virginia Beach. It's a town center akin to The Grove in LA or Sunset Place in Miami, though a quite a bit more tacky. I navigate the 8 lanes of traffic to get there.
I decide to do an experiement. I've been a bit devoid of boys lately.
#1 I'm in Southern Virginia, which isn't exactly known for the smart, interesting, political, passionate type men I'm into. Not to stereotype, but well, yeah, I guess I will, because I haven't met anyone to prove me wrong. Come on, confederate flags are not okay to fly on your pickup trucks anymore. How I miss the self-deprecating sarcasm, over-the-top artsiness and heavy fashion of LA men. Or even the over-the-top-sensuality of Miami guys. Give me a Boston preppy anyday over a Norfolk man yelling "Hey baby!" out of his car at me or even the boring looking strip-malled-out guys at Gordon Biersch.
#2 I work all the time and rarely hang with anyone besides my staff.
So, I will plunk myself down in the travel section and see if there's anyone remotely cute that comes by to get a travel book. If he's in the travel section, he's obviously got bigger horizons than most people here. I'll figure out some way to talk him.*
I made my way over to the travel section where I settled down with a few good books--Do Travel Writers Go to Hell? , Cheap Bastard's Guide to Boston, and The Europe Book. I read for about an hour hanging out along the travel wall.
Zero. Zero people looked in the travel section. Doesn't anyone in Tidewater travel? With disgust (but a few good ideas on becoming a travel writer and obtaining cheap drinks in Boston) I reshelve my books and prepare to leave.
But what's this, mmmm, pretty cute. I pretend to scan the racks some more and glance over.
:::sigh::: He is at the next shelf over--self-improvement books.
Staying away from that one. I pick up a moleskin notebook, a must-have for any respectable travel writer, and head off home.
*Sidenote: I just did a search on "Picking up Guys in Bookstores" and came up with a whole bunch of this. Seems like it's much more of a man's sport.