Flypaper for Freaks

It's not that I don't enjoy male company. I do. Very much. However, I do not enjoy the kind of male company that involves a complete stranger coming up to me and talking to me. Especially if within the first five seconds I can tell that I am not going to like that person. If you're wondering if this happened to me today, it did. You know the guy that is in every town, that every girl fears? The one who talks to himself, consumes at least two packages of processed cookies on a daily basis, plays video games so much that he has callouses on his thumbs, believes he has been captured by the mother ship at least once, and confides in you in the first five seconds that you and he are destined to marry on Mars where his birth father and mother live. You know who I'm talking about. Every town has one. And he always seems to find me.

Somehow, I attract the kind of males that everyone pities but also scares everyone enough that they're not sure whether to be friends with this person or run away screaming like someone had informed them that chocolate is no longer available for consumption. I don't know what it is about me that is so attractive to these guys. Maybe it's because I look helpless - in which case I should probably buy combat boots and a wickedly menacing looking black trench coats with spikes. Then again, maybe it's just because I'm nice. I really need to stop smiling at complete strangers.

Yes, it's true. I am flypaper for freaks. They find me. Then they stick to me. Then, inevitably, I look like a freak. So no normal guy asks me out. Okay, so that's not entirely true. I did go out with a normal guy, fairly recently, as a matter of fact. He was what every girl dreams of: tall, dark, handsome, witty, smart and a complete gentleman. Unfortunately he hasn't called and asked for a second date. Maybe it's because he saw the reaction I got from the little 16-year-old wearing a "Kiss me I'm a Nerd" shirt at the restaurant we went to. He winked at me. And tried to smile. At least, I think he was trying to smile. His top lip got caught on his braces.