Diet Coke and Magazines

For lunch today, I decided that fried chicken sounded good. There's a Popeye's about 5 minutes from my office, and I go there on occasion. Today should have been no different.

First, there was a line. There's never a line. Quite alright, though, I had my iPod and it went fast. I get food, fill up the new HUGE cup and head to the door.

Apparently, I was holding the cup wrong, because it fell out of my hand, broke on the floor, and spilled all 44 oz. of Diet Coke everywhere. Including my feet. I didn't need 44 oz. of Diet Coke today, but I certainly didn't need it on my feet. I picked up the pieces of the cup, threw them away, and was given a new cup which I filled and held differently. Of course, the only cute guy in the place had to step over my mess as he gave me a "Sorry you're so clumsy" look.

I was on my merry way and had just turned on my car when this guy flagged me down mouthing that he had a question to ask. He introduced himself and said he stopped me because he's having a contest and that I looked cool.

Basically, he's selling magazine subscriptions to help pay for "tuition and beer. Wait. Do you drink?" "No." "To help pay for tuition and books." He went on to explain how buying these subscriptions helps earn money and points in his contest. He had the standard questions about what I liked, what I did for a living, where I was from, and was actually really nice. I decided I'd help him, and picked out "Spin" as my magazine of choice.

The methods of payment are cash and check, and I ran out of checks last week, so he accompanied me to the ATM. He had found out earlier that I'm single, so on the way back to the car we had the following conversation:

"So, why don't you have a boyfriend? Are you just picky or you haven't found anyone or what?"

"Well, I guess I'm kinda picky, but other than that I really don't know."

"That's crazy. 'Cuz you're hot."

"Oh thanks."

"Seriously, I'd ask you out, but since I'm not from around here, we'd have to do the long-distance thing, and then argue over the phone."

"Yeah, that's never fun."

"Yeah. Well, thanks for helping me!"

"Sure!"

And that was that. SO WEIRD!

I still haven't actually eaten yet, and I'm sure my feet smell (even taste perhaps) like Diet Coke.