Being Hit On

FIRST, it’s release week for ENEMY GAMES by word-whore Marcella Burnard. CONGRATS!!!!

When I go to conventions, I go to the bar with pals.  

**On the left are two members of Ohio Writer’s Network, Melissa of http://www.WICKEDJUNGLE.com and Faith of http://faithvanhorne.blogspot.com/ Then there’s me in fangs (it was a vampire ball). On the right is Carole Nelson Douglas  http://carolenelsondouglas.com/ .**

Because of a preponderance of strange occurrences during several conventions I attended during 2009-2010, my pals claimed they had identified my personal super-power and dubbed me “Freak Magnet.”

Sigh.

I don’t care, damn it. I am NOT gonna stop wearing pigtails in public.

When I hang out with my old drummer, we also go to bars. Like this one: http://local.yahoo.com/info-27858768-belcher-s-house-of-rock-mansfield 

I recall being out with friends once upon a time, and some of their other friends showed up and joined us. A few drinks later, after the group conversation had taken a hilarious but crude nose-dive (as usual), I was (also as usual) spouting dirty but witty remarks. One of my friend’s friends got up, came around the table and—surprise!—laid a liplock on me. I sooo wasn’t ready for it. He was handsome  enough that when he tried it a second time later that evening, I made it worth his effort.

In the present time, however, since my fella won’t put a ring on my finger, there’s a good chance that some other fella will assume that I’m single. Technically—and for tax purposes—I am single. So yeah, I occasionally get hit on.

So far, however, Viggo Mortensen, Chris Pine, Simon Baker, Christian Bale, Daniel Craig, Chris Hemsworth and Hugh Jackman have all failed to hit on me. I’d like to think that’s ONLY because I’ve failed to be in the right place at the right time. ;-) (Gonna keep tellin’ myself that.)

 

But as my drummer and I are hanging out more and talk of forming a gigging band again grows more serious, my barroom attendance seems to happening with increasing frequency. A dangerous thing for my fella, as men who are drinking are bolder—as the surprise liplock story shows. And I do like a bold, take charge, alpha kind of man.

 

Bold Exception: one evening at Context, as my editor, several writing pals, and me (all of us female) sat at a Winking Lizard in Columbus not far from the con hotel…a man at another table who was very, very drunk proceeded to try to pick up the lot of us. Yeah, he stopped by the table repeatedly to talk to us.

There were nine or ten of us there that night. Had we acquiesced to his drunken fantasy, that guy would never have survived to tell the tale.

 

The reason people are hit on is summed up in this song:

 

 

Tonight, out on the street out in the moonlight
And damn it this feels too right
It´s just like Déjà Vu
Me standin’ here with you
So I´ll be holdin`my own breath
Could this be the end?
Is it that moment when
I find the one that I'll spend forever with?
‘Cause nobody wants to be the last one there
'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares.
Someone to love with my life in their hands.
There´s gotta be somebody for me like that.
`Cause nobody wants to do it on their own
And everyone wants to know they´re not alone.
There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere
There`s gotta be somebody for me out there.

You can’t give up, looking for a diamond in the rough,

You never know, when it shows up make sure you’re holdin’ on

‘Cause it could be the one, the one you’re waiting on.