The night dessert was held hostage...

"Take my number!"
*Blank stare*
"Here, take my number. Friends only. Friends only. Take it. Miss call me, now," he insisted, coming up close behind where I was seated.
"401blahblahblahblah"
"Ummm," I was so surprised I didn't even know how to deal with the situation.

In my current life as a journalist (and I use the term lightly) in K., I often come across the oddest things (Crime stories on illegal dairy rings? I rest my case)...this was just another one of those times.
I was reviewing a trendy new Arabic fusion restaurant that just opened up here...the experience was going well for the most part...good food, massive quantities, dessert included (woohoo), attentive service...we were seated outside, there was a lovely breeze (which would occasionally send the paper napkins flying from one patron's lap onto another one's face...oh well...) but we had an amazing view of the marina and I had excellent company :)
We had tucked into as much as food as we could manage to eat without exploding and were waiting on dessert when...

"Here, take my phone, put your number in," our waiter said, placing his phone on the edge of our table.
HUH?
"Umm, could you please bring out the dessert? And then we will see," I said, trying desperately to divert his attention from getting my number to just getting my dessert.
"Give me your number," he said, slowly walking away, not even bothering to complete the most basic of the 'hitting-on-a-woman' ritual: getting her number.
"UMMMMMMMMMM!!" (I know I know, but he didn't exactly inspire me to be particularly eloquent)
So, I just sat there, willing for the phone to disappear (maybe if I just stared hard at the leftovers on my plate, it would just go away?)

What is it about two single women that makes it okay for them to be hit on by random skeezy guys. Our waiter had been perfectly polite before this, no sketchiness…that I detected anyway…and then suddenly he felt the need to exchange numbers? (Gotta give it to him though, it was a ballsy move, I guess)…still, why can’t women just walk around, chill out, relax and just BE without being hit on for no reason. It is not like we did ANYTHING to invite the attention either… we were dressed fairly conservatively (not that that should have anything to do with it….I should be able to wear whatever the hell I want, but that’s a whole different post/rant!)…we were not particularly giggly or flirty…sure, we were being polite and courteous to the staff, smiling, saying thank you etc…could that somehow have been twisted into some kind of “OMG! SHE WANTS ME” message in this guy’s head?
Whatever it was…it definitely left me with a bad taste in the mouth…and while the experience overall had been fairly decent, this incredibly uncomfortable experience has me wanting to stay away from the resto, if only to avoid the sketchball waiter.

Needless to say, he did NOT get my number or a tip.