Bullets Dodged: 2

"Wanna buy a magazine? ...Wanna have sex?"

I love men. I do.

I love the way they smell, and when their hair is just long enough to really run my fingers through, and how they take charge, and get flustered, that no matter what size they are they are perfect for cuddling with. I love that they will never understand my mismatched fuzzy socks, how they want to fix things, how rough their hands are, and their three day face stubble. I love their deep voices and the way they act more than they talk.

I'm grateful for the amazing men in my life that show me what a real man looks like.

Because we are getting lazy. Men and women alike have cultivated so much liberty that it has grown wild, trampling over decency and respect, and breeding like bunnies to create the social evolutionary beasts of entitlement and self-importance.

This particular race of bunny is called "Youtube Comments"

It appears that some of these rabid bunnies have infected a few of the men in my area. I present to you: Bullet #2.

The salesman came into my life via my roommate, who let him in for a "glass of water" (always a ruse girls. Always.). Thinking he was a friend of hers, I wasn't weirded out when he called me beautiful and we started talking. He played the "I'm in Utah and I know what you want to hear" card and said he was talking to missionaries and wanted to be baptized. We made a few jokes, and he got down to business. He mentioned that he was selling subscriptions to magazine, my inner eyes rolled, but I let him do his thing. Then I told him no.

Stage 1: Boy. Loses. His. Mind.

He started talking about how much money he would make if we said yes, then how the program really worked, then how the college kids around here are (expletives). He started swearing and my roommate left to go back to her room.

Stage 2: Sanity travels southward.

As soon as she left, Salesman started talking again about how beautiful I am. How pretty my lips are. How much he wants to kiss them. Do I drink alcohol? Do I like black men? Have I ever been with a black man before? Am I a virgin? Can he have my number? No, really, I'm a virgin? Can he change that?

Stage 3: Boy gets booted out of the apartment.

And thank goodness he left fairly easy because I was two seconds from calling Mexules over to come help me.

Is there a lesson here? Sure. Being a salesman and asking a potential buyer for sex makes you a prostitute.