- Joined
- Jul 17, 2013
- Messages
- 1,490
The series of events described here took place 8 weeks ago; due to extensive commitments I have not had the opportunity until now to file a proper Field Report.
There is a decent bakery a few hundred meters from my apartment. The layout of the establishment is that there are some self-service shelves in back, and two counters: a bread counter opposite the exit, and a cash desk beside the exit where anything ordered at the bread counter, plus any self-service items, are rung up.
One Saturday in mid-May, I entered to pick up some rye bread and rolls. I ordered at the bread counter, and after I collected my order, the woman who had served me ran around to the cash desk to ring me up. Evidently, there was no second staff member on duty, or she was on break or otherwise occupied.
After I had paid and was leaving the store, the reason for this became apparent. Just as I was opening the door to leave, I spied a slim girl with dark hair hurrying into the now-vacated position behind the bread counter, mumbling apologies to her much older colleague who had served me and who obviously was of a more senior position in this little establishment.
There is a certain type that I have a weakness for: thin and athletic-looking women, with a broad smile and a warm manner that suggests that they enjoy the company of men. It is by no means the only “type” I like, but I find it hard to get such women out of my head—a longtime female friend and ex-lover has this appearance, and I congratulate her on her birthday every year, which is by no means my habit with others.
Anyway, the lady now rushing back to her duties was of this type, and before I left the store, I noticed that she was wearing red eyeshadow which, despite the seeming incongruence, actually suited her surprisingly well. Besides the dark hair she had a relatively pale complexion, a tall, very slim figure, and a winning smile with the sparkling eyes that subtly imply an easy familiarity with men, as described above. I don't think she noticed me. I left and closed the door behind me.
The latter girl is, of course, the subject of this tale, and in keeping with the humorous tradition begun by NarrowJ, we'll call her "Cookie-Cutter".
A few days later, on Tuesday afternoon, I stopped by the bakery again on the way home from the gym. Cookie Cutter was at the bread counter. I asked for a quarter-loaf of rye bread, and noticed to my great surprise that she was smiling, making strong eye-contact with me, and seemingly displaying many of the signals mentioned in Chase's recent article "Girls' Signs of Interest: Why Can't Most Men See Them?", most obviously glances, smiles, and hair-tosses.
To keep the interaction going a little, I asked whether she could recommend anything besides the bread, perhaps something sweet. She did suggest one item, but it wasn't to my taste, so I politely said that I wouldn't take it this time, wished her a good day, and exited the interaction, before paying her more senior colleague who was at the cash desk.
This seemed promising, so the next day I returned to the bakery, a little earlier in the day this time. The ladies had swapped positions, Cookie-Cutter now being at the cash desk and her older colleague at the bread counter. I asked for rolls and a quarter-loaf of rye, before turning to pay. When my turn came, I greeted Cookie-Cutter; she responded pleasantly and rang up my goods. When I presented a bill, she asked whether I had any smaller change and as I tried to oblige, I asked her:
I was disappointed at the following response:
What baffled me was her frank refusal, following on from her eager interaction with me the day before, with all the signals that had cause me great provocation and excitement. I almost dropped my wallet in my confusion as I exited the store. I have returned twice or maybe three times to the store in the past few weeks; once Cookie-Cutter was working alone there, each time she interacted with me with similar smiles and glances and general nonverbal femininity, but our verbal interaction was limited to the business of buying and selling bread.
I wonder, is it worth asking a second time, or will I look clueless after the first refusal?
Marty
There is a decent bakery a few hundred meters from my apartment. The layout of the establishment is that there are some self-service shelves in back, and two counters: a bread counter opposite the exit, and a cash desk beside the exit where anything ordered at the bread counter, plus any self-service items, are rung up.
One Saturday in mid-May, I entered to pick up some rye bread and rolls. I ordered at the bread counter, and after I collected my order, the woman who had served me ran around to the cash desk to ring me up. Evidently, there was no second staff member on duty, or she was on break or otherwise occupied.
After I had paid and was leaving the store, the reason for this became apparent. Just as I was opening the door to leave, I spied a slim girl with dark hair hurrying into the now-vacated position behind the bread counter, mumbling apologies to her much older colleague who had served me and who obviously was of a more senior position in this little establishment.
There is a certain type that I have a weakness for: thin and athletic-looking women, with a broad smile and a warm manner that suggests that they enjoy the company of men. It is by no means the only “type” I like, but I find it hard to get such women out of my head—a longtime female friend and ex-lover has this appearance, and I congratulate her on her birthday every year, which is by no means my habit with others.
Anyway, the lady now rushing back to her duties was of this type, and before I left the store, I noticed that she was wearing red eyeshadow which, despite the seeming incongruence, actually suited her surprisingly well. Besides the dark hair she had a relatively pale complexion, a tall, very slim figure, and a winning smile with the sparkling eyes that subtly imply an easy familiarity with men, as described above. I don't think she noticed me. I left and closed the door behind me.
The latter girl is, of course, the subject of this tale, and in keeping with the humorous tradition begun by NarrowJ, we'll call her "Cookie-Cutter".
A few days later, on Tuesday afternoon, I stopped by the bakery again on the way home from the gym. Cookie Cutter was at the bread counter. I asked for a quarter-loaf of rye bread, and noticed to my great surprise that she was smiling, making strong eye-contact with me, and seemingly displaying many of the signals mentioned in Chase's recent article "Girls' Signs of Interest: Why Can't Most Men See Them?", most obviously glances, smiles, and hair-tosses.
To keep the interaction going a little, I asked whether she could recommend anything besides the bread, perhaps something sweet. She did suggest one item, but it wasn't to my taste, so I politely said that I wouldn't take it this time, wished her a good day, and exited the interaction, before paying her more senior colleague who was at the cash desk.
This seemed promising, so the next day I returned to the bakery, a little earlier in the day this time. The ladies had swapped positions, Cookie-Cutter now being at the cash desk and her older colleague at the bread counter. I asked for rolls and a quarter-loaf of rye, before turning to pay. When my turn came, I greeted Cookie-Cutter; she responded pleasantly and rang up my goods. When I presented a bill, she asked whether I had any smaller change and as I tried to oblige, I asked her:
I was disappointed at the following response:
What baffled me was her frank refusal, following on from her eager interaction with me the day before, with all the signals that had cause me great provocation and excitement. I almost dropped my wallet in my confusion as I exited the store. I have returned twice or maybe three times to the store in the past few weeks; once Cookie-Cutter was working alone there, each time she interacted with me with similar smiles and glances and general nonverbal femininity, but our verbal interaction was limited to the business of buying and selling bread.
I wonder, is it worth asking a second time, or will I look clueless after the first refusal?
Marty
