I am SO not hiting on you!
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: Heaven 17
So I was at the dealership today finalizing my paperwork for ‘Hi-Ho’ my darling new silver beastie.

We had to swap out the loans as I was originally approved under their corporate financing and I wanted to exchange it for my own bank’s loan. We were just waiting on the paperwork from my bank to arrive.

Now, the guys I dealt with in fleet sales were total rockstars. I felt totally comfortable with them and it was the best experience I could have ever have hoped for in the trauma of the car buying experience. That is, until I had to deal with the freaky guy in the finance department.

I should have known something was up when the fleet sales manager, Dusty, prefaced my meeting with him with “I’m sorry, but Chaz is the only finance guy here today.” EEK! Ok, that doesn’t bode well and it didn’t.

To say this guy was an odd duck would be a massive understatement!

When I returned from dealing with him, the first words out of my mouth to Dusty were “That guy is so totally creepy!” and Dusty said “I know, sorry about that.”

In fact, this guy was so weird that I mentioned my meeting with him to a few of my friends. As in shudder! Ugh! Can you believe the freakshow!?!

Now, I am an abnormally happy and friendly broad. I also am extremely outgoing and can pretty much talk to anyone about anything comfortably. However, sometimes this tends to bite me in the ass as men always think I am hitting on them when I’m not.

Such is the case with Chaz.

I go into his office and within minutes, he is telling me all about the ultimatum his girlfriend gave him and how he dumped her because he “is a single dad with five wonderful kids..." and his "kids have to come first…” and that “she gave me an ultimatum and I showed her the door.” Uh, ok. That’s really nice and all. Can we just finish the paperwork so I can bail with ‘Hi Ho’? Then he keeps checking his phone for text messages, supposedly from her, (while grimacing and making snarky comments to me about them). OY! Come on! Then he aks me what I think about it. Think about what? I don’t know her, I don’t know you. Puhleeze! Do I look like an extremely fashionable Dear Abby?

Which leads us to my other problem: random strangers always seem to feel uber comfortable telling me their deep, dark secrets/issues/ life stories, etc. without any encouragement. This is why I slap on headphones for any flight I am taking so that I am not stuck in a seat next to someone for the next 3-5 hours listening to their deep, dark secrets/issues/ life stories, etc. I know that sounds harsh, but you have no idea the weird ass shit random strangers have shared with me starring as the unwilling listener.

I don’t want to hear about how you cheated on your LSATs (ick!), that you enjoy watching Teletubbies (double ick!), that you stole from your last job (felonious ick!) that you have a collection of all of your scabs (medical waste ick!), that you cheated on your wife (adulterous ick!), how when you were a child your dog was hit by a car and died in front of you (so horribly sad and ick!), about the time you experimented with LSD in the Army while on a tour of duty in Bosnia (unpatriotic and unprofessional ick!), how your ex-girlfriend, "that bitch", got a restraining order against you just because you “smacked her once when she needed to calm the Hell down” (assault ick!), how you wish trolls, elves, unicorns, etc. were real (Middle Earth ick!), how much you love the music of Def Leppard (long hair 80s music ick!) and the list goes on and on. Scarier? All those examples are real information that folks, random strangers mind you, have voluntarily confided to me. What?! Do I have the words “Please tell me your freaky shit” stamped on my forehead?!

As I walked into the dealership tonight, I quickly glanced over at the finance office in the hope that Chaz wasn’t in. Whew! No sign of him!

I meandered back to the fleet area. As I was greeted by the guys, the first thing out of my mouth was “Am I going to have to deal with Chaz again? He totally gave me the creeps!”

Dusty started laughing and said “No, he’s not here. Funny you should mention him though. After you left the other day, he came in and told us all how you were totally hitting on him…” WTF?! “Are you kidding me?” I asked, “I thought he was a total skeeve.” Dusty, still laughing, said “Yeah, I know. So I told him, that’s not what I heard.”

Oy! Just what I need--one more random dude thinking that because I laugh a lot and didn’t cut him off at the knees during his bizarre-o ranting that I am all into him and hitting on him.

For future reference guys, you will know in spades if I’m hitting on you. Just ask Mr. Pierced/Tattooed who walked into one of my events a few weeks ago. I was on that shit immediately and hard. Walked out within 10 minutes after exchanging phone numbers with him.

In the meantime, if a chick is being nice to you, don't assume that A) she wants you bad and B) she wants to hear your weird ass deep, dark secrets/issues/ life stories, etc. If she's hitting on you, trust me, you'll know!

POST SCRIPT: All I had to do was say to my girlfriends today "Hey, remember that creepy finance guy I told you about?" and they were all like "Ew! Yeah--what about him?" so I told them about how he told the fleet guys I was hitting on him. It was good for a chuckle...