Mostly, I enjoy getting hit on. Mostly, they make for fun stories. The following are my most recent/favorite.
Last week the fed-ex guy told me I had gorgeous eyes. He also noted that I was "all alone" in the back room. I felt uncomfortable.
A few days previously, a high schooler (presumably) yelled out, "Nice ass!" while biking by on his low-rider. He biked away too fast for me to shout, "Thanks!" and wave. Or maybe the appropriate response was to scoff?
My favorite hitting-on story was a mid-run attempt. I was jogging the dam, passing fellow humans without much more than a smile or a nod when I was caught unawares. He let me walk by, casual as can be. I thought the clomping behind me was my imagination until I realized that the clomping wasn't my imagination. The clomping was coming from a work-booted, spritely young gentleman jogging to my immediate left. I can't remember if it was only a few seconds or 30 before I removed my earbuds but I know the conversation had started without me. He was somewhere into commenting on the length and natural arc of my stride when I could finally understand him. He asked me why I ran. I'm not sure what he was expecting but I said I liked it and it kept me in shape. Why he found that surprising I may never understand. One comment led to another and eventually he deemed a formal introduction appropriate: I found myself shaking hands while jogging. It was awkward and kind of annoying, actually. He was ballsy, though. I'll always respect a guy with balls.