I was recently bragging to an engaged friend about the glamour of my single-girl weekend. On Friday night, an attractive young man had knocked on my door. Unfortunately, I was unable to open the door, as I was exercising the prerogative of those who live alone– not wearing pants. Turned out he was just selling magazine subscriptions anyway. But on Saturday, the guy who I passed while driving to the grocery store was interested in more than my reading habits. “Do you have a boyfriend? I want to be your boyfriend,” he hollered through the window of his car when we stopped at a red light. I politely declined but was terribly impressed with my irresistability and his nerve.
“Oh, I can beat that,” my friend said. Back in her single days, a magazine salesman had showed up at her door. When he realized she wasn’t buying any magazines, he tried selling her on himself instead. He was enumerating his qualifications as a boyfriend when his cell phone started ringing. He ignored it for a while, but the caller was persistent.
Finally, he pulled out the phone and checked the caller ID. “Oh, I guess I gotta get this,” he told my friend in an annoyed tone. “It’s my baby mama.”