Mr. Inappropriate

A brief synopsis on why I'm single (among many other reasons):

This weekend I met a man who was dressed as Mr. Inappropriate for Halloween.  No that's not a real costume.  It's just a man dressed to look skeezy with a sticker on his sweater that said "Mr. Inappropriate."  This guy is holding a bottle of wine and a beer can, and mere seconds after him approaching me, his friends split like Jesus was giving out autographs just around the corner.  He tells me he wants to take me out to pancakes.  No, I don't think he was thinking this was his big opportunity to have breakfast for dinner.

Here's some of our dialogue.

J: "Jane. Like Jane Austen."
Mr. I: "Oh I'll remember that."
J: "Big Jane Austen fan?"
Mr. I: "No, but I like wrestling so that's like Steve Austin."

He proceeded to try to tell me how all of this was a costume.  He likes to just hang out at home on the weekends.  No, no, Mr. Inappropriate, I will not call you back.  Thank you for the compliments on my body and smile though.  I was just thinking I should really get some whitening strips, but I guess that doesn't make or break the sexiness of my smile.