Secret Security Schmooie

Dear Cute Security Guard who works at the place I am typing this from,

You’ve had your eye on me for awhile, thank you for finally chatting me up tonight and walking me to my car. Although you are Roman Catholic and it would never work out, you made my weekend. It wasn’t a bad weekend, but it wasn’t great either. See, I went to this Jewish Young Professionals party for a Jewish holiday called Purim, and a bunch of people were crowded together in the room. You might expect a lot of elbowing to be a conversation starter, but with so many stupid girls who decided to bring their boyfriends (or show off?) if made it difficult for us vivacious single women in the room to rule out who could be our own potential Schmooie candidates. I got so annoyed and tired of these types of parties, these “mixers,” not to mention frustrated, that I went to the car and threw on the Charlie Sheen t-shirt my friend dared me to buy but never expected me to actually wear to the party. It was the highlight of the event, a real conversation starter. I’ve decided the next time I go to such a thing, I may just intentionally give these show off girls a piece of their own medicine and really flirt up their loser boyfriends.

Oh, and by the way, Mr. Cute Security Guard, you should’ve seen the next day, my Sunday morning. I went to a Jewish softball game. Turns out it’s not such a hot way to meet young Jewish males. Most of the males were older gentlemen who didn’t want to grow up. Someone had convinced me to get out of my nice warm bed early on a cloudy, cold, last day of winter Sunday morning, and schlep 33 miles to a stupid ballpark. This same someone, I’m sure, couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel like playing softball and why I might have been acting passive aggressive. See, I discovered then and there that I hate softball. I did, however, enjoy watching the adult kickball competition going on in the next field, but that’s another non-Schmooie related story.

So, Mr. Cute Security Guard, I am glad that you finally chatted me up tonight. You made me realize that it was just an off weekend, and that maybe there is still potential for a guy named Schmooie to find me, like me, and chat me up as eagerly as you did. Have a nice night, and until next time, Mr. Cute Security Guard. Now really, get back to work, dude.