Eating alone is always a precarious endeavour, but never more so than this evening...

I decided to head over to the Economy Shoe Shop that my friend LA took me to the week before for a drink. The menu looked decent and the atmosphere was pretty cool. I had my usual eating alone accessory with me, a book. No sooner had I ordered when a large eccentric man came over to ask if I was reading a guide book (I was, Lonely Planet Guide to South India). When he found out that I wasn't from Halifax he proceeded to scold me for not partaking in the atmosphere. Then he noticed what I was drinking (dirty martini) flourished and disappeared. Ok... strange I thought and went back to reading. A minute later he's back with a gift for me, he hands me a copy of "The Martini Companion, a Connoisseur's Guide." I tried to protest that I could not accept it, but he gave me such a look that I quickly thanked him. He then for reasons unknown began to sing his favorite driving song to me, which consisted of him singing the phrase "pinch your nipples" several times over (complete with mimed actions), and then exclaiming "this is how we drive." I told him that I wasn't sure I wanted to know what highways he was driving on. He then left as abruptly as the first time. At this point my meal arrived and I suppose he figured it wouldn't be polite to interrupt me while I was eating, the meal itself was uneventful.

My respite did not last long however, as soon as my plate was bussed, he was back. But this time he had barely gotten a word out, when an oddly attractive man (I say oddly b/c the ones that typically approach me are freaks) came over gave me the "I'll help you out" look, distracted the man and managed to steer him away back to the table from whence he came. Sweet, saved by a well dressed stranger I thought. A few minutes later the distractor came over and I thanked him for the help. He introduced himself as C from Bedford and said that he didn't want me to think this was his usual gig "saving the pretty girl from the eccentric weirdo in a bar" and then asked if I was married or had a boyfriend, to which I replied boyfriend. I thanked him again for the help, and at this point the fiasco should have ended.

But it didn't.

B came back, but before he could make it all the way to my table C swooped in and guided B back to his table. C then came back and I thanked him again. Then he asked "If you didn't have a boyfriend would you talk to me?" After pointing out that I already was talking to him he asked if he was "my type." I replied "hypothetically?" but before I could say more he said "What's the matter am I not good looking enough? I have two degrees." At this point I opted to dispense with the politeness and break out the sarcasm: "Well given that B over there, compared you to Mel Gibson earlier, I don't think your looks are in question." (as an aside, he looked nothing like MG). He then replied that he got it, and then walked away.

I then figured it was time to make my escape, downed the rest of my martini, opted to sacrifice the olives and slipped out unnoticed.