Would somebody please tell the old man who buys Viceroys to stop telling me he loves me..
Seriously.
Every time, he has to do it. And he kisses my hand. He doesn't speak much English, but when he does.. He coos at me, "I love you.." and flutters his extra long eyelashes at me, making cooing and kissy faces.
Sure, it was cute for a while. But it's getting old.
The best, though, was this guy Danny. One time he came in [half drunk, I think] and he started singing to me, to the tune of that Beatles song, "Michelle, Ma belle." Only, it was "Danielle, Ma belle." It was the cutest thing ever. I like having random strangers sing my name to me. Shit, I love it. Because I love my name. And I think I might be one of the few who actually loves their name. I love it so much that I'd want to name my daughter with that same "elle" sound at the end. Probably Michelle. Just so I could sing that same song to her, as I'm cradling her in my arms in a rocking chair as a baby.
But I've got a loooong way to go for that. I can barely stand the kid I have to live with right now. :p
LJ