I am Wanton Hussy's Cat-Like Reflexes to Sexual Advances.

On my way home from work I decided I desperately needed a carwash. I pull into my local carwash and am confronted by the owner who never fails to ask me if I need a tire rinse and a hand wax. Only after I explicitly say, "I want the basic wash. The low one. I want a REGULAR car wash." I follow the drill; leave keys in car, put everything in the back, take my ticket and proceed to the register. The owner beats me there, which is when things get interesting.

The owner begins by asking me what I do. I respond window accessory sales. He says, "I need to get your number because I need windows." Nice try, buddy. I wasn't born yesterday. I tell him to call a window contractor and he would eventually be getting our product. He then, I kid you not, says, "If you ever need any money for rent or anything, you just come to me."

I have known this full grown man for all of five minutes and he is already offering me money. Ummm, no thank you. At what price does this "loan" of money come at I wonder? I graciously decline the offer and am anxious to pay and get outside. He then shows me pictures of him with Old Man Bush and Arnold and says, "I need someone to go with me to the White House. I can go anytime. Do you want to go with me?" Hmmm, no thank you.

I am Wanton Hussy's cat like reflex to sexual advances. During our conversation, the man told me how beautiful I was twice, that he would again loan me money for rent, he owned two houses, etc. May I reiterate, I have been to this car wash twice before, the last time in February, and have never had this reaction from him. May I also divulge my appearance; black gauchos (loose shorts), black tank top, no cleavage, no bra straps, my only makeup is mascara, which is almost completely gone.

During our conversation, the owner proceeds to punch out 7 holes in a 10 punch card for me. Does this mean I score a C- on his scale? If I were wearing more makeup, would I have gotten 9 punches, an A-, making my next car wash free? I am now in his opinion, obligated to come back to this particular car wash. I am now indebted to his advances, as I have a free car wash in my very near future.

I finally make it outside and proceed to read my magazine and will my car to finish with no future encounters. I would only be so lucky. I see my car pull around. Excellent. Home stretch. I see the owner then pull around in a white Bentley. Please don't talk to me anymore. Please don't talk to me anymore. He gets out of the car and approaches me, "You like my car? I will give you a ride in it whenever you want."

Moral of the Story: Be careful what you wish for. I have always thought that it would be neat to have a "Sugar Daddy." An older, wiser man that could show you other things that "boys" my age could not. I changed my mind. There is no Robert Redford's offering anyone a million dollars for a night with me. Just car wash owners. I don't want a "Sugar Daddy" anymore.

Tart and I have analyzed why in her opinion, "older men are more attracted to me than other women our age." She claims that I receive more looks from older men when we are out, than others in the Wanton Hussy posse. Why is that? It is either one of a limited number of variables. I am taller than average women, giving the appearance of an older age perhaps. I am curvaceous with "child bearing hips," as I have been warned.

Tart has surprisingly had this conversation with suitors of her's, and they have informed her that I have an "accommodating smile." It is true that I may smile more than most, or that it is more "accommodating" than most, or larger, or whatever. But, my point is that what right do middle aged men have to objectify me as a human being because I am polite. I have been raised to be polite to those around me, to respect authority and my elders, which in my opinion is anyone who could be the age of my parents. I smile out of politeness to the owner of the local car wash and how am I rewarded? With promises of money, car rides, trips and I am sure a spot in one of his two houses if I showed the required interest.

Promises of money within a five minute meeting is not a reward, but a punishment for dressing in flattering clothes, smiling out of sheer respect for others, and an attempt to graciously turn down attempts at flirting, rather than a typical female response in similar situations, which is to shut down completely and blatantly nip advances in the bud.

Am I needing to A) Stop treating others with respect, when they so obviously do not treat me with such. B) Act rude immediately once these disgusting remarks begin. C) Live it up, because let's face it, I really do only have a limited amount of time to accumulate as many free car washes as I can. The world may never know. But what I do know is that my car has never looked so fresh and so clean. Party on Wayne. Party on Wanton Hussy.