I mentioned before that I’m not too solid in the brain when it comes to getting hit on. Well…I think it’s time to prove that point even further. I once worked as a security guard at a Condo building. The place was like 18 floors of condos, although the first two floors were a parking garage, office, and there was a small grocer’s shop attached to the front entrance. They also had a fitness center and a open lounge (for tenants) on the 3rd floor.
It was actually a pretty nice place to live in, I think. Of course I was getting paid $10 an hour to work there at the time and the cheapest Condo was $1100 a month. They’d just decided to cut costs by firing the $30 an hour doorman and hiring an unarmed security guard to lock up the lounge, fitness center, and shop on the weekends. This caused some confusion because something a lot of people don’t understand is that a doorman and a security guard are not the same thing. They are actually the opposite of each other:
A Doorman opens doors for people, helps them carry their bags, and is generally supposed to be accommodating and helpful.
A Security Guard keeps doors closed, checks peoples’ bags for stolen merchandise, contraband, and bombs, and is generally supposed to be vigilant at their post.
But that’s a whole other story…one not nearly as interesting as the one I started telling. You see during this time I had a couple of chances for some sweet lovin’ that I only realized several years later. Several years and a wife who thinks everyone who waits on our table is out to sleep with me. Well okay, there was that one waitress, but that’s a different story.
Anyway the first one was awkward on several levels. You see this guy ordered some delivery food and when he came down I was at the front desk just wiling away the time (I generally polished my desk three times a night…because the job was reeeaaallly boring). He introduced himself as ‘Mac’ and I haven’t changed the name because the fact that his name was actually Mac is pretty funny. Especially when you consider that he was a 5’6” white guy named Mac.
Anyway Mac said that he made a mistake when ordering his sandwich, he got one that was way too big. He told me that he only wanted a half sub, but he had to order the whole sub because of the delivery minimum. He offered me half his sandwich, said he had a case of beer we could split, and was about to watch the game.
I told him I was on duty and couldn’t drink. He then asked me when my shift was over, I told him 2:00am and he promised he’d still be up, and he had the game recorded so he could just rewind it if I wanted to come up then. I’d be off duty, so the sandwich and beers would be totally cool, then. I should like to point out that during this conversation it was only 8:00pm.
He wrote his apartment number down and handed it to me, so I’d remember which apartment was his.
Everybody tells me that I could have had my first gay experience if I’d just taken a little stroll up to the eighth floor that night.
So what do you think? Are they right? Was Mac hitting on me? Do you think he was disappointed that I never came up to his place? Let me know in the comments.