Well a great way to start your morning is with a marriage proposal. This one came from a friend who is looking to leave the US if Donald Trump manages to become President as he feels that he no longer wants to be there if this horrid fate is to eventuate. Romantic I know, and I told him as much. Which is when he points out to me that at no point with me would life ever be boring if I was to ever take on a ‘pity wife’. Of course he would be the wife because I wear the pants, kick arse on a weekly basis and he even agreed that we’d keep my family name. Anyway, he calls my life ‘The (Mis)adventures of Dano’. Which got me to thinking…. how is it that one seems to constantly find themselves in situations of ridiculousness? Do I have ‘crazy magnet’ written on my forehead?
This week alone I have spent majority of the week unsuccessfully trying to hide the black eye I got on Sunday at jiu jitsu. Apparently this makes me a crazy person as I am willing to get physical and fight with others.
So anyway, in another Steve-inspired segment, here are some “crazy hit ons” from the (Mis)adventures of Dano.
- Weird, creepy guy is driving down the road screaming out of his car window at me about how fat my arse is. Apparently telling him to fuck off wasn’t quite enough for him to decide that he was going to leave me alone. Instead he just kept on rolling with the fat arse comments and my personal favourite line “God wouldn’t have given it to you if he didn’t want you to have it”. God clearly didn’t want you to have a brain either. Arsehole. Despite me telling him it’s impolite to comment on people’s arses and to disappear out of my face, hits were not quite making their way through the neural network. He kept going and going and going until thankfully someone came up behind him and honked their horn at him to drive normal speed and the arse clown moved on.
- I am cooking quietly in a hostel and get into a conversation with some new people. The couple upon five minutes of meeting me have literally told me they haven’t seen each other in 3 days and there will be sex. But that they were all about free loving and that they would like me to come on over and join in with them…. ummm…. yeah… no. After pointing them in the direction of the bathroom, they proceeded to tell me I have a nice arse and queried about my underpants choice. I of course for shits and giggles told them I wasn’t wearing any and ran off to hide somewhere where they couldn’t find me.
- Once upon a time I was in my local Boots Pharmacy store and looking at heat packs. I like the ones with wheat in them. None of that gel shit. Anyway, I am shaking the box when the huge arse security guard starts giving me the 20 questions about what I am doing. He then uses this as entrance to try chat me up. I manage to wrangle my way out of the conversation “oh look at the time, gotta go” and escape the Boots. About 5 minutes and a good 200m down the road this guy taps me on the shoulder panting heavily because he had just asked his boss for time out to go get my number. What the hell do you even say to that?! I was so taken aback that I gave him the wrong number and kept going. It will take a good 6 months before plucking up the courage to go back to the local Boots.
- Add to this that in the following week or so after this, another random guy I’ve never met decides that upon looking at me that I must of course be amazing and that he just has to get to know me. This fucker is also out of breath from running. I must have said no about ten times while walking past my house and then had to double back to make sure I lost the dude before I went home. Can’t be too careful in the presence of weirdos.
- Sitting in a bar nursing my eye after one guy who has thrown a coaster at my head with his phone number on it has hit me in the eye. I am approached by another man who’s line is ‘Hi! Have a drink with me? I just got out of prison and I have no friends. Ummm….. no. Thanks. I’ll pass.
This all is rather odd to me. I would like to know where the normal men of society are? They certainly aren’t asking me out in a spectacularly normal and respectable manner. Or maybe I just have “crack job magnet” written on my forehead.
Got any crazy stories of your own, share them below! Until the next (mis)adventure!