Why I'm still single, part [insert high number here]

I was standing in line at Starbucks this morning, counting my change to see if I had the exact 50 cents or if I needed to hand over an extra dollar. It was early, and dark in the store, and my non-caffeinated brain couldn't tell the difference between the dimes and pennies, nickels or quarters.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the man in front of me staring, so I looked up.

"Are you short?" he asked. I had been self-conscious about the cropped pants I had put on that day, since I probably should have shaved my legs and my new gold heels were only bringing attention to my calves, so I immediately thought he was referring to my height or the length of my slacks. It was something my father might have said, trying to be funny: "Are your pants too short?" I cringed and got annoyed in the span of a second.

"Excuse me?" I asked. Surely I had heard him wrong. Why would this stranger be commenting on my clothes?

"Are you short" he repeated. Still thinking he was commenting on my appearance, I gave him a grimace, and a slightly nasty "I'm sorry, what?" I can be such a teenager sometimes.

Then I realized he meant short on change. "I thought you were short on change," he said. "I would have offered to put it on my credit card." Oh. He was cute, for a 40-something, with a Jonas-brothers haircut. I was mortified.

"I thought you were referring to my height!" I apologized, embarrassed. And, since I suddenly realized that would have made no sense - why would a man standing next to me have to ask me about my height? - I then went on to explain, "I was self-conscious about my pants! I thought you were telling me my clothes didn't fit!" Clearly TMI. Stop talking, Lori.

If I was insecure, he was more so, apologizing even more profusely: "I'm so sorry you took it that way!" He was. He was embarrassed. And so was I. Telling him I was embarrassed about my outfit. Which was cute, by the way. Need-to-be-shaven legs, aside. We fumbled like in a stupid movie and I high-tailed it out of there before he could look at my legs and wonder what on earth I had to be insecure about.

This is why I should not be allowed to have conversations before coffee.