Saved by a Technical

So my rules may already be gearing up to bite me in the ass.

I recently went out to lunch with a girlfriend from work. Lunch itself was totally uneventful. After lunch, however, Cupid himself (that peevish imp) shot a dart right into the wandering eye of a very tall gentleman who spied us walking in the parking lot back to the car.

Something about me told him that he needed to say hello.

He approaches and begins walking alongside my friend and me.

"Hello, sista," he says.

"Hello," I reply back.

He keeps talking. I have no idea what he said next because I was mesmerized by his mouth.

It was missing all of its upper teeth.

All. Of. Its. Upper. Teeth.

ALL of its upper teeth.

Though my eyes were focused on the fact that his mouth effectively modeled a black hole, my feet were smart enough to quicken up the pace to the car.

I remember him asking, "Do you work around here" and "Will I see you here tomorrow"and me sputtering out as quickly as I could "I don't think so" while my main goal was to get to the car.

See, here's the problem (ok, let's keep it real, there are many problems with this entire situation): my first rule is that I would give my number to whomever asked. So, it became critically important to get out of his phone-number-asking-radius before he could a) ask, or b) spit some kind of food from his mouth on me as he was missing the ever-critical barrier between mouth and outside world: his teeth.

I burrowed my head down low and focused on the car door. I could hear my friend sniggering. Fifteen steps away. Ten. Five. One. Opening the door.

"Can I give you..." I hear him ask, just as I'm sliding in the car and shutting the door.

Safe. The crown--oops crowd--goes wild.

Saved by a technical.

But, more than anything, I'm wondering what is is about me that made him think that I would ever, eva, eva eva eva eva eva spend time with Frankenteeth. Whatever that is, I need to fix. Today.