Saladicious

On Monday we had a salad that the boyfriend made out of mustardy (spicy!) greens, little purple flower blossoms, beets and red pepper. The boyfriend pointed out, and I agree, that the greens were a bit too strong to make up an entire salad but if they were interspersed with, say, mesclun that their bite would add a lovely dimension to the whole dish.
Before I forget I would like to share with you a little story. When the boyfriend and I arrived in Madison last Friday, I was running low on cigarettes. I insisted that we stop at a gas station so I could quickly run in and re-up my supply. So we did. I ran in and waited in line long enough to learn that you can't buy beer (or any alcohol) after nine o'clock in Madison. When my turn came I stepped up, asked how much camel lights were, was pleasantly surprised (so much cheaper than Chicago) and requested a pack. The guy behind the counter, a large and in charge white dude, asked me for ID. I handed him my Tennessee license plate and this conversation ensued:

"Tennessee huh?"
"Yeah."
"You're the only ten-I-see."
"Urgh."

The conversation lasted, maybe, an additional forty five seconds. In which he told me never to go to Lancaster, Pennsylvania and I told him to have a nice night.

Even at my most attractive, which is not now, I was not hit on all that much. In bars I was usually with friends or clearly not interested. Walking down the street no one whistles or yells. I never take the train when it's crowded enough for a guy to feel like he can do a nudge, nudge wink, wink kind of thing. But gas station attendants are another story. I'm sure I'm not alone in this? In, let's see, four or five different states I've found myself being not-so-subtly hit on while trying to pay for gas, cigarettes or candy. I've had the 'haven't I seen you before' line and the 'you're too pretty to be that old' line and a number of others just as clever. But I'm thinking the one above really wins. What, exactly, the prize would be is a little unclear...a not-date with me, a smirk or incredulous stare...something like that. Though a trophy would be fun for the guy to have, some tailor made job with a little plastic replica of himself and his counter covered in faux-gold, and a plaque of some kind with a witty little summary like...um, something witty.