I'll Buy Whatever He's Selling

Saturday morning I was grunging around the house unshowered, teeth unbrushed, hair sticking up everywhere, wearing my glasses and covered in multiple shades of paint thanks to my latest room project. I looked like Nerd Girl's older, even dorkier never-gonna-snag-a-man sister. The only way I could have looked worse would be if Beelzebob the zit (Satan's little brother) had made a return appearance. So of course, there was a knock on the front door. I was hoping it was my aunt showing up to help me paint, so I pulled the door open and was met by the sight of a rather gorgeous guy standing on the front porch. I'm talking young, cute sandy blond hair spiked like that Chad guy's from the Alltel commercials, and the most gorgeous blue eyes framed by those ridiculously long eyelashes that men should not be allowed to have. (I always take umbrage at we women being accused of fluttering our eyelashes to get what we want when there's men running around like that--long eyelashes on a guy make me weak at the knees. But then, so do long legs, sculpted backs... ummm, where was I?)

My first reaction was to slam the door, run and shower, then come back pretending like I didn't know who that crazy woman was who first answered the door. But the paint fumes had evidently addled my brain and those eyelashes were making me crazy. So what did I do? I stepped out onto the front porch to talk to him. Where God and all my neighbors could see just how scuzzy I looked. *groan*

Gorgeous guy takes it all pretty well in stride. Here's hoping one of my neighbors had answered their door looking worse than I did. He starts his sales pitch about the security system he's selling, but we keep getting sidetracked talking about home ownership. He said he and his wife (DAMN!! IT!!) were getting ready to start looking at houses to buy.

And me, being the newly minted self-appointed genius on housebuying started talking to him about the benefits of purchasing a foreclosure. Which led me to invite him in and show off my renovations. At this point I kind of forgot my appearance because, let's face it, dude's married. And I'm chatting with him because I was interested in the system and wanted to talk a bit so I could decide if he was feeding me a line of bull or not.

(Seriously, I really was interested in the security system because I heard a noise the other night that made me wish I had one. I'm really still hoping it was just one of the cats I heard. Plus, my mother was nagging me about it.)

So we talk shop and I agree to the system, which I got for free, as well as the installation. I just have to pay for the monthly monitoring. And, since the system sends out signal via a cell phone transmission, I don't have to have a separate land line. I'm probably paying a little more per month for the monitoring, but I don't have the added phone expense.

Chase and I chatted for a little bit more while he got the installation scheduled for that afternoon. Turns out he's in nursing school, which led me to remember quite fondly the surfer boy hunk of male nurse I had when I was in the hospital for my thyroid surgery who always came calling with a needle full of Demerol. Oh, how I loved him. I might have actually told him that, too. Oops! I can only imagine that Chase will find himself on the receiving end of pharmaceutical-induced affections someday as well.

Anyway... Chase headed out and I even invited him to return in a couple of months to check out my work on the house. As soon as he was gone, I hit the shower and was thankful I had a couple of hours to pull myself together before the installer got there.

I also managed to get a couple of quick errands in before Rich showed up at my door to hook up the system. And let me tell you, I think that company has some kind of "You Must be This Hot to Work Here" kind of scale, because this guy was cute too! Dark hair, dark eyes, and again with the killer eyelashes!! He walks in and sees my menagerie of felines lounging around the living room and says "I love cats!" Awwww! He even pulled out his cell phone to show me a picture of his kitty. And of course my boys had to fawn all over him. Too bad he's young enough to be my much younger...ummmm... brother.

He was great to chat with as well and we got along great while he was there. He was telling me about how the company keeps moving him around and he misses his mom back in Utah. I was ready to go bake the poor boy some cookies!

At one point he asked me some dating advice. Obviously he doesn't know me, because I'm the absolute last person to ask such advice of, seeing as how I don't date. He was trying to get my take on a response a girl gave him when he asked whether or not she liked Coldstone ice cream. His original question to me was "do you like ice cream?" and I immediately started dreaming of my favorite downfall and how, when I met a man who worked for Blue Bell, I almost asked him to marry me. (For those of you from outside Texas, Blue Bell's motto is: "we eat all we can and sell the rest". I could only assume such benefits would apply to spouses as well.) So yeah, I think you could say I like ice cream. However, I have not been to Coldstone Creamery and really had no advice to give. Now, I can bluff my way through almost any topic, but dating and male-female relations leave me completely stumped as well as tongue-tied. Hence the reason why I tend to sit at home on Friday nights.

(Now before anyone think I sit and dwell upon that, I don't. Anymore. I just keep hoping that there's a guy out there who intrigues me enough to make me forget my shortcomings. And if he's reading, please send me your photo, resume, and a short paragraph on why I should give up Friday nights watching Stargate to go out with you in care of this blog. If you own a cat, please include a photo of him, as well.)

After about three hours, I finally had a new security system up and running and was given a lesson on using it. Now I feel much more secure, but my OCD is going nuts worrying about setting it off myself and what I should do if it goes off in the middle of the night. At least the darned thing beeps loud enough you can't ignore it and are forced to attend to it quickly.

Once the gorgeous guys were gone from my house for the day, I went around in paint fume-enhanced happiness and even gave my new system a test-run when I decided I HAD to go to Wal-Mart that evening. So far so good in that I haven't set off the blaring siren and had cops show up to find out what's wrong. I can only imagine, though, that such an event is in my future.