As you may have deduced at this point, I attract weird. Weird people, weird situations... just weird. That being said, this may have been one of the weirdest things to have happened to me yet. (I'm done using the word weird now.)
Let me preface this story by giving you a little background info. The first thing you should know is that on Saturday night I had girls night with some friends and went to Avondale and then to a concert at WorkPlay. When I got home I promptly put on a big t-shirt and settled onto the couch for as much Criminal Minds as my little heart could handle, which probably equated to 1/3 of an episode before I fell asleep with a face full of makeup. The next thing you should know is that I miraculously slept until 11:30 the next day, which meant me waking up in a panic because I was running late for lunch at Granny and Pawpaw's. Cue me throwing my hair in a ponytail, jumping into jeans and a giant sweatshirt and running out of the door, still sporting last night's makeup.
I decided that I needed to swing by the bank because I had been putting that errand off for a couple of weeks and my savings account was thirsty. So I pulled into Wells Fargo and, unfortunately, I chose the one with a walk-up ATM. Let me just say that walk-up ATMs bring out the paranoia in me. You have to drive up and, inevitably, there is at least one other person there. And obviously I have money with me, as I am waiting to go to the ATM, and I have to walk past the cars of all of these strange people to get to the ATM with my stacks of bills (read: $60 in cash). It's prime mugging territory. Not that I've ever heard of anyone getting mugged while walking from their car to the ATM, but I swear it's feasible. So anyway, I pull up and, sure enough, there's one car that belongs to the person already at the ATM and then there's another car with a guy waiting to use the ATM next. So I slip right into the furthest parking spot and get to signing my check and un-creasing my bills and other such mindless tasks to look busy while I wait. And out of the corner of my eye I notice homeboy in the 4Runner keeps looking at me.
I tell myself I'm imagining things. He has nowhere else to look and I just so happened to look up when he was glancing in my direction a couple of times. No big. He is definitely not watching me sort my monies in preparation for a deposit. Then I see him looking again. Surely he can tell by my impressive imitation of a homeless person that I am not the person to rob! Finally he goes to the ATM. Yes! Coast is clear. So he makes his transaction as I make my way out of my car and I divert my eyes as I cross paths with him on my way to feed my bank account. I take care of business and turn around only to see that the 4Runner is still there... and he's still looking at me.
"Okay Aimee, don't panic... he must realize that you just deposited your money and he clearly missed the mugging window. Maybe he... maybe he's just got another transaction to attend to but it's going to take a while so he decided to let you go first. Yes. That's it... he's just a gentleman is all." My inner dialogue was happening at warp speed as I walked back to my car and then, as I pass the 4Runner, the door opens and I hear him say "hey". Shit.
I don't even know what to think at this point. I kept a $20 in my purse... maybe that'll satiate his obviously raging urge to rob someone, even though he was a little gun shy with the whole scenario. So I hesitantly turn and say "hey" right back and, for the first time, fully take in this guy in a t-shirt and wind pants with glasses and tennis shoes.
"So... I never really do this, but you're just really, super cute and I can't let you leave without giving you my number. So... here's my card and I wrote my cell number on it. *reaches out and hands me said card* I just went to the gym and I know I look gross but, you know... if you ever want to use it......"
I'm sorry... what? Me? Super cute? You realize I'm wearing a 2XL sweatshirt from the men's department of Wal-Mart and I have the makeup on from last night... right? But instead I accept the card and, dumfounded that I'm being hit on rather than robbed, I muster up a "thanks" and go about my merry way. (Aka get in my car, lock the doors, slam my car into reverse and promptly dial my best friends number to tell her the ridiculous thing that just happened to me.)
I thought he was trying to steal my money but, as it turned out, he was just trying to steal my heart. (Props to Katie and Taryn for that line.)
So thank you, David, for the much appreciated ego boost. I don't think I'll be calling you but, shall our paths ever cross again, I'll be sure not to assume you for the ATM-stalking-robber that you appeared. Also, props on the sweet gig at ESPN: it definitely ups your anti.