Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Dear Mr. Would-be Latin Lovers...

Please do not tell me your name and carina or uscire in the same breath. Preferably not even in the same conversation.

If I’m wearing shorts, this is because for once it’s just too damn hot to try to assimilate into the Italian culture and wear jeans or a skirt. However, I can now appreciate why Italian women don’t wear shorts. To clarify things, these shorts were not put on to impress or invite you.

If I refuse to take off my earbuds when you speak to me, this is not a good sign. If I eventually rip one out when you won’t shut up to tell you I don’t speak much Italian, this does not mean we should try again in another language.

Just because you think I look French (and perhaps have by now realized that I speak French or have a French name) does not mean I will have sex with you today, tonight, or even at all.

Do you really think it's a compliment to tell me I look too pretty to be a Biological Engineer? What's that even supposed to mean exactly?

If you’re thirty years old, I’m too young for you. If you’re older, don’t ask.

Look me in the eye. If you would have to stand on your toes to kiss me, don’t try.

Who the hell do you even think you’re asking out? You don’t know the first thing about me. I could be some crazy-psycho-killer-bitch who keeps ex-lovers’ dead bodies stashed away in my closet. But seriously, if the only reason you want to take me out is because you think I'm cute, I'm not biting.

Asking for my zodiac sign will not win you points. How dumb do you think I am?

If all else fails, you do not have permission to grab, smack, or in any way touch my ass, thank you very much.

Love,
Me

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