I Suppose I Should Be Flattered?

Yesterday I was at a stoplight being noticeably eyed by two guys in a Jetta next to me. In case you didn't catch that, it was two guys in a Jetta. A Jetta. There's nothing wrong with a Jetta if you're a 19-year-old blonde girl with a Roxy sticker in the back window. But this was two guys.

And also they both looked like this:Meaning they both had the swept-back-Gotti-boys hairdo, not the pouty lips and nice skin tone. And they were both wearing headbands. Headbands!

I was staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact, but I could see the driver give me the standard head nod out of my peripheral vision. Unfortunately my window was down so I couldn't ignore him when he started shouting across the traffic lanes, asking my name. It's so awesomely embarrassing to see the looks on the faces of other drivers who overheard me shouting my name three times because he couldn't understand me.

And to answer your question, yes, I shouted my phone number to him. Sure he drives a Jetta and has amazingly bad hair that I'm sure he believes to be amazingly awesome; but at the very least, it gives me something entertaining to blog about. Stay tuned.