Are You Married?

Yesterday at the restaurant I was asked if I was married.  (For those of you, who don't frequent this highly infrequently written blog, I'm pregnant...let's continue.)  For a second I debated on answering something like, "Well, I wish this little bun in the oven meant I was married, but actually it represents a long string of one night stands that really amounts to more questions than answers."  Or "Married?  I wish.  But the judge says it wouldn't be a good idea since there's a good chance he won't make parole."

Unfortunately for me, and very fortunate for this idiot, I was really busy so I just responded with, "Yep," and while rubbing my stomach, "and sort of spoken for."  And then it got weirder.  As I was walking away, the guy looked down at my stomach and said, with these ridiculous flirtatious eyes, "I could take care of that."  Take care of that!?  That's the line you are going with?  That's the line that is going to make me leave my husband and raise this baby with you?  How about just a simple, "Congratulations" and you leave with your fanny pack still tied around your waste and not shoved down your throat?

Oh, and just if you were wondering how much he was going to "take care of that" - he left me a two dollar tip on a 45 dollar meal.  Buddy, you can't go around making false promises.