rachelrain

How can I say this delicately?

Ah, there's probably no way to do that...

I went to the Breakroom tonight, where Inara hosts karaoke on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Not usually a problem. But apparently I was lookin' hot, because all kinds of scary people decided to hit on me, including:

a) Two scary tall huge men who looked like they just got out of prison (one of which volunteered to be my "guy on the side", as he promised to "bounce me right");

b) a painter guy who asked if he could have my number and half of my beer;

c) a really tired guy who kept yawning;

d) an older man with half his teeth; and

e) some other random dude who followed me out to my car, with a beer in his hand, who then proceeded to knock on my window and ask for my number. And no, I didn't give it to him. Or anyone else. (At those moments, I conveniently have a fictitious boyfriend who works late. And a fictitious job that pays super-well, at which I just received a fictitious promotion and subsequent fictitious raise.)

Hm. Watch out, boys. I'm all kinds of sexxxxy. Ha.