Monday, February 13, 2012

What I Want

I want a grumpy waitress who is a little overweight with a bad dye job. She calls strangers "Hon" or "Sweetpea" when they sit down to order breakfast. She probably needs, and richly deserves, a foot rub when she gets home. I'm a little tired of trim men in dress shirts hovering around like you might not know how to eat by yourself and pretty young girls clearly just going through the motions hoping to be 'discovered' and start their real life.

I want to look at a menu and see things that a working man would eat for breakfast. Sausage and gravy instead of cream brie or 'market berries.' A menu designed for fuel where the average job involves burning calories instead of the menu for a place where the average job is looking as young and thin as possible.

Young women have been checking me out. It made no sense. I'm dressed a little different than the average, but between the tourists, the different classes and the different ideas of style there really isn't a standard here. You can't (correction, I can't in only two days) reliably pick out the locals by dress. So why the checkout? I'm not pretty. Not distinctive. And the attention is coming from a very definite demographic. (If everyone was checking me out, I'd take a hard look at my dress and mannerisms and local standards and adjust.)

Then it hit me. Age, demeanor, gender... I'm edging into the 'potential sugar-daddy demographic.' The other, other, other career path for a young lady down here.

Everyplace is different, and this place is beautiful. The ocean is warm enough to swim in, by Oregon standards. A little rain, a lot of sun. One spectacular sunset. And the people I've met have been wonderful. Even the traffic (granted I'm here on a weekend and in a nice area) looks smooth, uncluttered and even polite.

But I think I'm missing the Pacific NorthWest just a little bit.
And I hope all the grumpy waitresses of the world have someone at home to give them a foot massage.

11 comments:

Kai Jones said...

You are attractive. You also usually have an air of confidence and competence, which is by itself attractive. This is what most women must endure at some point in their lives--attention from people they don't want.

Rob Lyman said...

I'd tolerate "market berries" if it meant pretty girls checking me out.

Of course, I probably would fail to notice, meaning I've paid for that tiny breakfast for nothing.

sam said...

you said it man I was born in beaverton oregon and spent most of my life in the northwest had to move down to cali for work. . . the sunny days are starting to depress me I miss my clowdy days :/

sam said...

surgar dady. . . XD

Ymar Sakar said...

Women can usually pick up body language signs better than most men can. Unless they have been trained in various fields such as interrogation, spycraft (tradecraft), or some such.

You may be unconsciously emitting some signals you weren't aware of, which is independent of your dress and your social manners.

Kai Jones said...

Oh yeah, that reminds me--diffidence. Not being interested. That is, you probably look, but you are so in love with your wife that you don't give off the "I'm interested" vibe. Which is another kind of confidence (you're not desperate for a woman's attention, you're not thinking about trying anything) and that creates a sense of safety that can be very attractive.

I don't like men who chase me; it makes me suspicious. Men who are interesting but not obviously interested are more attractive to me.

Molly said...

Of course, you could be ramping up the "observant thug" vibe and they might be checking you out in case they have to identify you in a line-up later

Ben C said...

Kai- would you let a man know if you were interested?

Kai Jones said...

Ben-Depends on the circumstances--always must feel *safe* to suggest interest. But yeah, I've asked men on dates, probably about a dozen times. I think half of them said yes to at least one date.

Adventure Nickel Farm said...

I am missing the Pacific NW a bit too these days. Sigh.

Justthisguy said...

That describes my favorite kind of waitress, too. Sadly, Waffle Houses are scarce in this part of the world.