Last Friday when I got off of work Momma and I had (pre)decided that we were going to go do laundry, as opposed to waiting until Saturday or Sunday morning. We were both tired and hungry, but wanted to just get it out of the way. (I was out of underwear. TMI? Sorry).
I had on my regular lounge bottoms and just the tank top I had been wearing underneath of my work shirt and didn't really think too much about it. Also, I was in house shoes, because we all know how "fancy" I am. I.e- Not fancy at all.
I was standing there, folding our laundry, minding my own business when the woman at the table across from me started talking to me. I'm not big on talking to people when I'm thinking about alcohol, food and replaying Sons of Anarchy episodes in my head, but I'm also not incredibly rude for no reason and started having a conversation with her.
And then the dude that was at the table behind me, well, let's just say that he.....
That's right. He thought that I was a hooker. Or I guess, "call girl" depending on which one does applications and/or has clients. I assume both have clients, but I don't think hookers take applications or background checks. In all fairness though, I'm not really sure if call girls do either, so I guess it could be either or. I really should look into that.
The point is he walked up to me while I was folding underwear and jeans and slid his number to me all "inconspicuous" and leaned in to whisper- "You know, in case you're excepting new applications". To which I promptly said- "Huh?!" And he gave me this little smirk like I was playing coy (I wasn't I legitimately had no clue what he was talking about) and was like- "You know, in case you might add another client." And then he winked at me and I said- "EXCUSE ME?!"
And he looked shocked for a minute and the look that eventually came to his face can only be described as an "OH SHIT" one for the history books. Then he tried the ultimate and was all- "Oh. My mistake. Can I just take you out to dinner then?"
No. No, Ottis, you can't. Although, I was really hungry and there's a Taco Bell across the street. But no.
And then he preceded to follow me out to our car and try the whole- "Your car is red to?! See! We're meant for each other" line that I assume he had seen on a random TV show and was all- "I gotta use that the next time that I inadvertently mistake a chick for a hooker and want to take her out to dinner".
I still don't understand why he mistook me for a hooker (or call girl, it's still undecided). I was in lounge pants and house shoes. Sure, I was wearing a tanktop, but it's not like it was showing all of my business off. I don't even own clothes that do that. And I know that he walked up and did all of this when I was folding my underwear, but it's not like they're sexy or something. Unless you have some weird fetish that I'm unaware of. They're so unsexy that they're just called underwear. Not panties, but underwear. I'm just so confused.