Face-palm. STORY TIME : The time I was hit on. Sort of. K, not really.

SO! Story time :

A few days ago, I was walking out of Wells Fargo in Trolley Square to go find my car. To set the scene : I was wearing a baseball hat, no makeup, my giant coat, no bra, sweatpants (and not the cute kind), and running shoes. Also I was probably wearing a scowl because the wait was so long at the bank. But anyways, (positive thoughts 2015) onwards!

As I was walking, a car pulls up next to me and a guy about my age rolls down the window.
Let me back up, I was blessed and cursed with inflated self-confidence + also inflated confidence in my ability to read people + situations.

SO! Right as he pulled up next to me, I was already thinking that he was about to hit on me. Or something ridiculous. GUYS WHO AM I?! Why do I do these things?

He rolls down his window and kindly asks,
"Hey! Are you parked around here?"

...to which I jump to the idiotic conclusion that he is wanting to give me a ride to my car...and ask me out...

I reply, practically screaming and giddy with myself because I am such a good person and I am SO cute! and I am going to make this totally not-awkward for this kind guy! :

"OH! Yes! Well, sort of! I am like, 100 yards away but (here's where it gets presumptuous) I can just walk there myself! I need the exercise! Thank you so much for the offer, though! You are like, the sweetest!"

WHAT!
No!
Even now as I type this, I am so embarrassed.
Also I was like, placing my hands on my heart and being so over-the-top + acting like I was truly, truly touched by the offer THAT HE DID NOT MAKE.

He looked bemused, then amused, then embarrassed for me, and replied,

"Well. Ummm. I could give you...okay, actually I was just wondering if I could have your parking space? The lot is kind of full..."

NO. NO. NO. NO.
I just nodded and was like,

"Yep. Totally. Cool. K. Bye."

And then power-walked to my car while he followed behind me in his car.
NO. NO. NO.

Also, it gets worse.

I then call Jeff + my mom to tell them about the interaction and am crying of laughter but also so embarrassed. I then go to Trader Joe's and return back to my car, still replaying the conversation.

I look at my windshield + see a note with a phone number on it and NO JOKE, touch my heart again. As if to signify, I was right. I am cute. He was hitting on me. I am such a good person for turning that situation on its head and embarrassing myself instead of him. I am cute...

After thirty minutes of driving, I unfold the note to read that someone had bumped into my car while I was in the Trader Joe's parking lot. Mmmm. Yep.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!

P.S. Dear Armen, you are nice.