Oh wanna bet? Lead's got nuthin' on me, especially in the sex department.

As a teen I was working with one of my favorite waitresses, she was in her early twenties and just a fun person to be around. One night, a friend of mine who was far more worldly than me, was standing on one side of the counter(he was a Senior in high school, owned a Harley and knew more about real life than anyone I knew) and she and I were on the other side. She made some comment to me, turned and went into the back room. I look up and my friend's eyes are bugging out his head. He's about to freak out.

"Didn't you get that?!!" he says. "She just made a pass at you!!"

I say, "oh, no. She says stuff like that to me all the time."

Now he really bugs out. "You got a woman like her talking to you like that. Omigod, man. You've hit the motherlode and you don't even realize it!!" My friend has now come slightly unglued in front of me and is starting to froth at the mouth, something I'd never seen him do, ever.

Damn, damn, damn. Here I am 16 years old, been reading Penthouse for untold years, aching for an older woman to make a pass at me, one does, and it goes over my head.

So my friend is pissed at me because, as he tells me, he's been flirting like hell with her since he got there, and I am just standing there. But who gets the come-on? Not him, who can recognize one a mile away, but me. Okay, I have just pissed my friend off by doing nothing when any red-blooded american male would have had her half undressed by now and I have pissed myself off because I was too stupid to see what was going on.

Okay, fast forward to college. A gay guy I work with wants to know if I want to go see a movie. I say sure. We go, have fun, great conversation, and get back to his place. He sits next to me on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, reaches across me a lot to get his drink, puts his arm on the back of the couch so my back and shoulder rub his arm and hand. He does everything but grab my crotch. I am puzzled but think he is just being extra friendly. After a bit, I tell him I need to go home because I have to be up early the next day, thank him for the fun time and leave.

Later the next day I am telling my manager the highlights of our guy's night out. Then she says "so your date went pretty well, huh?"

I say "excuse me? Date?"

She says "Sure, that's what he told me -that he and you were going out on a date."

?!?!?!???

She later said the look on my face at that moment was priceless. I liked Craig. Maybe if he had been a little more forward, I'd be telling a different tale here. As it was, the next time we worked together, my manager took him aside just as soon as he hit the door. When he came out of her office, his face was beet red and he avoided me all that night.

So, not only could I not pick up when women were hitting on me, but I could not pick up when men were hitting on me either. Unfortunately, there's more where these came from.

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