Greenville, the desperate city

Now, I am an actor and by definition full of myself, but I know I'm no Jake or Brad. Therefore I was totally unprepared for what has transpired over the last couple weeks.

Two weekends ago I received my official certification to teach in South Carolina. Aside from making me legal, it also confirmed my level of education and teaching experience, essentially giving me a 25% raise. So I decided to treat myself to a little meal out, just to celebrate. It was at the Golden Corral. Yeah, I know, but I hadn't gotten the money yet.

My waiter was a sort of cute-ish Latino guy. Nothing great, a bit older, good looking enough for his age. Very friendly. Not flamingly gay but obvious enough to those who might care to look (or be desperately looking for someone else who was gay). Brought me extra hot rolls, not a euphemism. Kept my sweet tea filled, also not a euphemism. Gave me his digits before I left. Yeah.

Then, last Friday I decided to do a real dinner to celebrate my first paycheck, which didn't actually get credited to my account until three days later, but that's beside the point. I went to the Olive Garden that is just down the road from me. Yummy. Never-Ending Pasta Bowl. House wine. Dee-lish. Had a delightful young waitress with a Beverley Hills, 90210 name. Perky thing. Very young. Very thorough and generous. Also gave me her number.

So in Owosso I couldn't get hit on, with one wonderful exception, except by creepy old men. In five weeks in South Carolina I've gotten unrequested phone numbers from two people of differing genders and ages. Just how depserate is Greenville?