I got picked up at McDonald's once

I got picked up at McDonald's once
23 November 2013

I’ve heard a few pick-up lines in my time.  Most chicks have.

Though, usually, I am pretty much always with my husband.  At least when out and about at social gathering type places.  Where single people might bump into one another and the need for a pick-up line could be great.  Like a restaurant, pub, evening function, etc. 

Cause apart from those occasions, though alone, I’m usually doing mundane things.  Like the shopping, carting of kids to extra-murals and everyday things like that.  Hardly the setting for romance.  As you can imagine.

Still, during my early twenties, I worked at a pub.  And from the safety of my spot behind the bar counter, I heard a few clangers.  People generously preserved in alcohol, are often given to declarations of love.  And lust.  Not always necessarily in that order.

And I was witness to lots of attempted bar room romance.  Some successful.  Some not so much. 

But then again, this is often the case with alcohol.  For those that have indulged, it gives a wondrous illusion of their own desirability.  And the more alcohol soaked they are, the more self-confident they are too.  Supremely assured of their charm.  In addition, they believe they are terribly light footed and possess amazing dancing abilities too.

Though, from the sober outsider’s point of view, the slurring and stumbling can prove to be challenging.  Even hilarious.

And I think most would agree, that evening entertainment spots, would probably be the most obvious place where one would be subjected to a pick-up line.

Yet, every so often one gets a surprise.

As was the case with me a few years ago.  I quickly popped past McDonald's one Saturday lunch time, to get some take-aways for my family.  And on this occasion, I hopped into my husband’s bakkie and off I went.  I decided on doing the drive-through, as it is just so convenient.  But somehow or other, on this particular day, the drive-through was rather busy.  And hence, I spent quite a few minutes, in the queue.  I noticed two young guys in the car ahead of me, looking back towards me every so often.  Mostly in their rear view mirror.  Clearly they were bored, having a slow day and were trying to kill a few minutes at the same time.

The first time, I smiled, as one does, when a stranger smiles at you.  It’s a friendly thing to do.  Like reciprocating to a wave.  And randomly smiling at strangers, gives me faith in the general friendliness of people.  It also reaffirms my belief that people enjoy being friendly.  That it makes them feel good.

However, by the second, long glance and smile, I felt uncomfortable.  If a bit flattered.  And avoided eye contact thereafter.  I looked left.  I looked right.  I looked on my lap.  I scratched in my bag a bit.  Hoping the queue would move quickly and that they would move off.

Finally, I got to the window to order my food, and the friendly McDonald's staff member, gave me a giggle and a smile, and then presented me with a business card of the guys in front.  It contained the obvious details, like the name of one of them, a contact number, as well as a hand written scrawl, saying, “Call us”.

I made the foolish mistake of glancing up.  And for my efforts, I got furious waves from the two of them.  Thumbs up signs and general goofiness.  I swear they were like friggin kids.  Cause they were.

Luckily, by this stage, they had to pay for their meal and they drove off.  Which left me to think.

Had I been driving my car, filled to the brim, with a baby car seat, booster seat, Barney window sun protector and general kids paraphernalia, including all three of my kids, I could have avoided this all together. 

Though possibly not.  Now, I’m not saying I’m a fox or anything.  Cause I’m pretty comfortable with the fact that I know that I’m not.  I’m hardly a catch.  Even without my kids.  I’m just me.  Average and that’s okay.

Still a while ago, I went to a gig with Grant.  As in I was with my man.  And it was a gig where my brother, brother-in-law and stepdad played together.  And given the family connection, the venue was flooded with family members.  My mom, sister, my eldest son, aunt, two uncles, various cousins, stepsister, etc. were all there.  Even my grandparents were at the theatre, where the gig was hosted.  We nearly took over the place.

And towards the end of the evening, as the venue was clearing out, a guy came over the me and said, “Where have you been all of my life?”

Now I admire his guts, cause it probably can’t be an easy thing to do.  And it surely takes a fair amount of guts to approach someone.  But clearly this guy was blind.  I was very obviously with someone.  Or perhaps he was just stupid.

Which explains why my answer to his question, said with a kind smile, was,

“With my husband”.

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