Well, it finally happened.

After five months of selling sausages to hungry men all over NJ and NY, some dude finally realized how blatantly sexual the whole thing was and asked me out. It was the most bumbling, stilted interaction and yet somehow (because of my awesome powers of conversation with strangers) not awkward. In fact, he commented on how happy I was. He thought I was from the midwest because of that, actually. He made up a scenario in which he needed my e-mail address and at the end of it said, "So... how 'bout it?" I used the phrase "sausage proposition" and then backtracked very hastily. He wanted me to write down my email on the coupon I gave him. I had to remind him that they would take that away once he got to the register. I gave him my g-mail address, which is my whole name, and told him not to stalk me. I made him buy two packages of sausage, and effectively made $1.50 off that interaction.

Last night, I noticed there was one message in my spam box. My g-mail (completely unlike my yahoo account) never has spam in it. It had no subject and was from "nycmale123". Porn, I thought. But then I looked at the first line of the e-mail which g-mail is so kind to provide, and it was about helping someone pick out good food to eat. Oh god, I thought. It's from Him. Not god, Michael. Who I met in the refrigerated meats section of the D'Agostino's closest to the dorm in which I spent my first two years of college, having my first bumbling sexual experiences in stairwells and common rooms... none of which involved gourmet sausage.

For your reading pleasure, I have included here the entirety of his ever so poetic epistle.

"Alice, thank you very much for your help picking out some new great food. You have a great personality for sure while working and a very nice smile. Lets hang out sometime."

I gave him my full name, and he doesn't even sign his e-mail. Not only that, but his e-mail address "nycmale123", if I need remind you, is from AIM.com. AIM. Oh, did I not mention that this guy was probably about 40? Because he was. And his e-mail was nycmale123 at aim.com. Does he think I'm going to IM him? I gave him my super professional, full name g-mail account!! Maybe I'll write back saying that there's probably no hope for us, but I do need a raise, so would he be so kind as to write to my superiors a glowing recommendation of how I have a "great personality for sure while working"?

After this, I realize what a fool I was for not giving my phone number to the young red-headed guy in a deli on the upper west side who tried to woo me by saying that red-heads were a dying breed and need to procreate with one another. It may sound creepy, but he was adorable and the whole thing was adorable. But that was in June, and the little bit of Episcopalian guilt I have and the fact that I'm a good person forbade me from doing so. What a fool I have been.

In case we didn't know this already... "Sex and the City" is a work of utter fiction. Hilarious, horrible, totally untrue fiction.