false advertising

Twice in the past couple months I’ve encountered men – while out doing random things like picking up new glasses or dropping off paint at my new apartment complex – and been asked if I’m in sales.  Sure, I dress professionally, look pretty presentable, carry myself like I’m the most confident bitch on the block.  But that makes me a saleswoman?  Maybe it’s because I’ve worked with salespeople so closely for so many years that I find this to almost be insulting.  I’m not a ball-buster.  I’m a kitten.

 

But apparently something I’m giving off is making me seem intimidating.  Anyone who knows me knows that couldn’t be further from the truth.  And anyone who reads this here blog knows I’m just a big pansy hiding behind the 5” heels and cute clothes.  I’m not intimidating in the slightest, but if it’s what I give off…..well, you know perception is reality.

 

Today, as I was getting the paint out of my car to take into the complex, a nice looking guy pracitically ran up to me to take the pain from my hands.  He didn’t work there.  He was just a nice guy.  “Are you the Valspar sales rep?” He asked me and I laughed harder than one would expect.

 

“Nah, I just want them to paint my apartment.”  We both chuckled a little.  But I was happy to see that gentlemen still exist in some places.

 

Me?  The Valspar sales rep?  I’m laughing just writing it.  I couldn’t sell to save my life.  Trust me – I tried when I lived in Tampa and it lasted all of 2 sales calls and I quit after the second.  Not for me.

 

As I sat today in The Astrologer’s office relaying this funny little exchange with the guy, she jumped in with “Oh, yeah.  I need to tell you what I observed yesterday when Future Baby Daddy The New Guy.” I cringed.  Not because I don’t know about myself, but because I could tell by the look on her face that she was about to try to break something to me softly.  And I’m not that fragile.

 

“Ok…”

 

“Well, it was just that I’ve never seen you around a dude before.  And you’re so friendly.  And so very funny!  Really, you are!”

 

“I know, right?!”

 

“But…you were really hard on him.  I mean, it was funny, but men generally like softer and you really were tough!”

 

I inhaled.  Yes, I know this about myself.  It’s the wall.  “Yeah, I know I was like that.  This is one of the reasons I tend to be very attracted to men from NY.  Generally then can take it and dish it back and the banter is fun for me.  Also, I’m pretty good at reading people, so if he hadn’t seemed receptive or wasn’t playing along I would have backed off.”

 

Sure, I defended.  I fully believe everything I said there, though.  I like being able to be sarcastic and witty and sharp-tongued and have the person give it back a little.  It’s fun to me.  That’s how Ex-Husband and I were with each other and so I guess, for that reason, it also feels comfortable to me.  Safe.  Because sure it’s indicative of mile-high walls, since I’m actually NOT hard at all, but a little kitten that will purr in your hands and rub up against your leg so you can pet me.  I’m not remotely tough. 

 

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this, either.  Mr. D told me time and again that I was hard or tough or unemotional.  Funny thing was as soon as I *did* show any emotion with him he cut that out with a quickness, so that’s a confusing place all around. 

 

Point is – yeah, I’m hard at the beginning.  I’m scared and I’ve been hurt.  I’m not going to text you all day long and I’m not going to coddle you.  At least not until I see some consistent effort on your part.  If that makes me hard, well so be it.  I can’t be any other way than who I am. 

 

But, as I said a few months back, I really am trying to work on the softer side.  Maybe tone it down a little.  Relax.

 

For the record – this was one of the things I liked so much about being around Secret Crush.  I didn’t ever feel like I was being hard.  I had my funny moments – shit, I can’t turn this off!! – but I never once acted like I did yesterday in The Astrologer’s office with The New Guy.  There was never a reason to. 

 

Meow.