In fact, I have a fully separate (non-public) mommy-and-daddy blog where I talk about flowers and sunshine. When I told them about it, Dad said, "That's impressive. I didn't know mere mortals could have their own website." So I'm pretty sure they haven't found my blog.
The w-lfs-n strategy, realized.
The rest of us still worry about you, though.
Can I tell you how not fun any of this is? I read at Unfogged "held up at gunpoint" and then at Sue's "looking down the barrel of a small pistol," knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that the news can't be so bad if everyone and Susan is blogging about it. But only in the back of my mind. The front of my mind had gone primal.
I seriously feel for you, Kriston. I would be going out of my mind.
In fact, I'd probably have to break up with my girlfriend just to save my sanity.
(Sue, you have my email address.)
I'll sell them, and buy her little black dresses.
What makes you think she'd sell you her little black dresses?
But if you buy all of her little black dresses, what will she wear?
(Scary story, very well handled. Sue is my new hero.)
and buy her little black dresses
which really ought to help with my secondary problem of old men rubbing their business on me on public transport.
Hmm. What's the Georgian position on outraged shouting under those circumstances?
I thought about it, but spent my time in the moment rationalizing that I was imagining things. Hindsight, etc.
I didn't mean to imply in my retelling that I'd somehow saved the day. I think it was actually just a prank from the beginning, and I fell for it. And if he'd held it up longer, I'd have happily handed over whatever he asked for. Think he just wanted to scare some girl.
Dude, you didn't fall for it unquestioningly or freak out. That gets you significant points for guts. (Obviously, it's not saving a roomful of schoolchildren from terrorists, but what is?)
Ah hell, you're right. I'm off to reward myself with ice cream and whiskey. See you kids later.
he might have even been trying to flirt with me
I hope not because I can't think of any girl on whom that strategy would have worked. Seriously, though -- well done for not freaking out. Very impressive.
18- damn, no wonder I'm single. Back to candy and roses, apparently.
It was indeed a fabulous story. But a scary one.
Susan, is the Prostitute Boulevard so bad that it's not worth occasionally having to say 'no, I'm not a hooker'?