An open letter to...THE CRAZY MEN WHO HIT ON ME DURING THE FULL MOON,

I just found out that full moon's happen every 28 days (don't ask me why I didn't know this before...yikes!). Perhaps it was this new-found knowledge, or just crazy full moon behavior, but this week was full of the crazies all up in my bizzzz-naaaasss! So, I offer you an open letter to....THE CRAZY MEN WHO HIT ON ME DURING THE FULL MOON!

Dear THE CRAZY MEN WHO HIT ON ME DURING THE FULL MOON,

You guys...where did you come from? Seriously? I'm concerned. 

This week I was minding my own business and BAM! there you are. I've never seen you out and about before! Hitting on me from all angles. I didn't even know how to respond!

This may be an invasive question, but since you have already invaded MY space...I'm sure you'll understand. 

Are you werewolves? It's ok...you can tell me. I won't tell anyone. I just need to know. If you are werewolves, I probs don't want you all up in my bizz as I don't want to catch the werewolf from you! You understand this, right?  

Imagine, if you will, seeing this girl out and about on the town...what about her blue bow makes you think that she wants you all up in her area distracting her from her vodka delight? 

Let me talk to each of you individually because I don't want the others to hear. Let me start with you MAN WITH A MULLET AT THE NEIGHBORHOOD BAR.

Sir, I just...I...jesus..I just don't even know where to start. 

My friend and I certainly are the age of a daughter you may or may not have.  Your insistent awkward banter is upsetting me. Please, for the love of your mullet...stop. 

Ok, GUY PRETENDING TO BE MY WAITER.

The jig is up, dude...I know you don't work at this restaurant. You know how I know? You're drinking a pitcher of beer when you say you're going off to get me some more waiter. 

No, I will not tip you by giving you my number.

No, I will not drink anything you have given me.

No, I will not even look you in your creepy face. 

Stop.

Alright, MAN WHO SORTA LOOKS LIKE A GIRL AND IS WEARING A HALTER TOP WITH SKULLS ON IT:

Where did you even come from, sir??? It was Pride weekend, were you lost? I'm sorry, that was a mean thing to say. I apologize. But seriously, where the eff did you come from, and why are you lounging at the bar staring down my shirt? It's unnerving. 

Cute top though. 

You're not going unnoticed, GUY WHO HONKED AT ME FROM HIS CAR AS I DROVE HOME FROM THE THEATER!

Sir, honking at little blonde girls when they are driving and winking is frowned upon these days. Perhaps you didn't know...but this is common sense. 

Also, sir...I'm wondering why you thought THIS....

....was something you needed to tap. I still had clown make-up on my face, I may or may not have just been picking my nose, and I always drive with that sneer on my face. 

May I ask...what did you find so enticing?

Sir, let me drive and leave me to my driving. 

Finally...

MARRIED GUY.

Have you no common sense? Also, what makes you think I'm "the other woman" material. Here's a tip for you, buddy...I'm not! 

Also, you just talked about your wife...so umm...that's a dealbreaker for me, ladies! Get it together. Keep it in your knickers, and get out of my face. Please. Your cute level went down 304% when you asked me out. 

Puke. On. Your. Face.

Gentlemen, work it out and get it together over the next 28 days before the full moon returns. 

Cute, normal, non-werewolf men....call me.

xo, 

Me