If I go missing, please tell my mom I love her

Two weeks ago, a guy in our warehouse receiving department called me for what I thought was business purposes. Turns out, he wanted to ask me a question that his friend texted him earlier that day. That question being, "Why do the white guys not like the thick girls?" He was apparently so perplexed by this question that he decided to "ask the source."

I did not point out to him that I was not the source of the question, but rather a person resembling the subject. Why? Because I don't want to be a complete asshole to everyone I work with.

To be clear, this guy meant "thick" as a compliment. And after about a half second of being hurt that I was being described as thick, I got over it and realized that that's probably a pretty accurate description of me. HOWEVER, please understand that "thick" is not something I want to be described as. So if you start your comments below as "Dear Thick Chick" I will promptly fly to wherever you are and punch you in the kidneys. Yes - both of them. Because I'm not about to get mocked about my size. You may think I'm kidding, but I am so not kidding.

ANYway, the guy went on to say that he thought that I was "rockin' a skirt" earlier that week and that I "kick it" in the jeans I wear. What can I say? He is so right. BUT I don't have any interest in being Kelly from "The Office." So I did what I do best in situations where guys are hitting on me. I play dumb to stall.

I KNOW! You expected more out of me...but the truth is, I don't get hit on often. So when I do, I usually play dumb and wait until the moment passes. The weird thing is that although he was giving me compliments (albeit inappropriately) it's not like he SAID he was hitting on me. And he didn't ask me out. So I also didn't want to freak out and be all "Dude. I am offended! I would never date a co-worker!" and then spray him with pepper spray because he might have been just asking a question. Or at least that could be what he would claim. So I just played dumb and pretended that he really was trying to get an answer of why "all" the white guys don't like the thick girls. My answer, by the way, was "I don't know. I'm not a white guy."

Fast forward to yesterday at lunch when I was getting gas at a nearby gas station.

He pulls up a bay over and calls me over. I walked over to him.

Him: Just so you know, today is one of those days.
Me: Huh?
Him: You know, where you're rockin' it in jeans.
Me: Uh...okay.
Him: Well, I can't hit on you at work...
Me: So you're doing it at a gas station?
Him: Yeah. So....
Me: See you later.

And I walked away.

While I was at the pump, I noticed that he pulled through the bay he was at, and left the gas station to go back to work.

That's right, people. He didn't even need to go to the gas station.

So I let Larry at work know afterwards...and we both laughed the entire time. And then he, straight faced, told me that if I started to feel like someone needed to step in and tell him that he should leave me alone he was happy to do so.

To be truthful, I think that this guy probably got the hint when I didn't flirt back or indicate that that was cool to do. So I think I'm going to be fine. I have no problem with telling someone no and he's taken 6 months to approach me about this, so I really think that he's not going to push it either. It does help to know that someone at work would step in if need be.

But just in case I go missing, tell my mom I love her. And tell the police to look for a guy that resembles Dave Chappelle (only slightly less bug eyed) and drives a teal minivan.