The Writing T-Shirt Pick Up Tale #2

         Well, if you didn't catch my last post, where I lured a man into my womanly web with my wiles and my writing T-shirt, I will sum it up quickly. (It's not worth providing a link for you, trust me. I ain't Pearl. My post's aren't worth rewarming for a second savoring.)

       So how did I attract my first "hunk," using just a writing T-shirt? Here is a succinct summary to get you up to speed:

• I was in Santa Barbara in February on business with the National Writing Project.
• We were in front of the city art museum, doing various things. At the time I caught this "fair" haired (white hair) man's eyes (which were probably failing as fast as his hairline), I was rolling around on the sidewalk and acting out a painting.
• The man in question noticed my writing shirt ("Will write for food") and asked if I was a writer. When I told him I was a writer as well as a teacher, we got involved in a great conversation about writing.

      Since that time when my shirt sang out like a Siren, driving all men one elderly gentleman to total destruction to the point that he ended up losing a few minutes of his life that he can't get back, I've been plotting how to use the power of the writing shirt again. My scheming, my research, my extrapolations--everything came together this afternoon at Aldi's, my favorite grocery store.

      Same shirt. Different day.

      I had gotten checked out without a nibble. I was worried. Perhaps my shirt had lost all its mojo? But no...that old shirt magic had its hooks in someone.

      The security guard (there in case a couple of people got into a fistfight over the last box of frozen brussel sprouts) noticed my shirt and asked the same question: "Are you a writer?" Yes, and a teacher, too.

      In our short conversation, it was clear that this man was

•  younger than my previous "catch"
• drunk. Very, very drunk.

     The next time I bring out my writing shirt and unleash it, what kind of man will find it irresistable? Who will be my next prey?

      Your suspicions are welcome...