A friend and I go out to a bar one night. We have some drinks and play some pool, and there are a few guys that we sort of try to chat with, but we mostly keep to ourselves.

Now, I’ll be the first to acknowledge that I can be completely oblivious when it comes to realizing that guys are flirting with me; it’s caused me to miss out on a few things. But as we’re leaving, I’m complaining to her a bit; I got a call while we were out from my boss asking me to come in the next day — my day off — because she can’t be in. (There were issues aplenty at that job, but that’s a story for another time.)

Me: “Ugh. I can’t believe [Boss] called me on my Friday night and was so shocked that I didn’t pick up immediately and didn’t actually want to come in all day on my day off.”

Friend: “I still can’t believe you actually said yes.”

Me: “I don’t know what I was thinking. But I swear, if one more person calls me and complains that their furniture wasn’t what they wanted, I’m going to quit.”

A guy over in the smoking area speaks up.

Guy: “Hey, can I get your number?”

Me: “Oh, sorry, we were just talking about my job.”

My friend and I both get in the car, and as I’m pulling out of the parking lot, I realize she’s staring at me funny.

Me: “What?”

Friend: “…”

Me: *Lightbulb* “He was actually asking for my number, wasn’t he?”

Friend: “Yeah.”

Me: “Is it too late to go back and get it?”

Friend: “Pretty sure you missed your chance.”

By this point, we’re at a stoplight, so I bang my head on the steering wheel.

Me: “I’m an idiot. See, this is why I can’t get dates. Or a boyfriend.”

Friend: “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything…”

We both managed to laugh although I was feeling embarrassed. Even if he’d just been making conversation, if I’d been paying attention, I still might have ended up with his number. Ten years later, I still miss when guys are trying to flirt with me 95% of the time.