Apparently I am being too picky when it comes to men, and I was asked to outline how a guy should approach me without being labeled creepy. Fair enough. Here's a quick summary of my past posts as what not to do when courting a lady. Hell, the same goes for women. If you don't want a guy to think you are bat-shit crazy, pay attention to the following:
-Unless you are drop dead gorgeous or loaded, it's probably best to stay away from women who are more than twenty years younger than you. Even then I would probably tend to pass.
-Following a girl as she leaves work can sometimes be interpreted as threatening. Crazy, I know, but most women are.
-It is generally a good idea to not try and lay on someone you just met, especially after they make a visible effort to put space between you two.
-If you like someone, APPROACH THEM YOURSELVES! For goodness sake, we are adults, start acting like it.
-Unless you work for a media outlet that pays money for your photos, don't post pictures of girls on your website without their knowledge. I mean, sure, you can do it, but don't expect a warm response.
If any of the following seems irrational or out of line, please, do alert me to this fact. I would hate to think that one of these men could have long since become my husband and have me barefoot and pregnant by now. Aww, what the hell, I am probably just being a heinous bitch and should give these gentlemen a chance.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
No, the only job requirement is that we have big boobs
When I first accepted a job at Victoria's Secret I was a little nervous that I would have to deal with creepy men. Up until last week, I had no such encounters. The men that came into Victoria's Secret were covered in the sex department, so they had no interest in bothering me. Then, Joe entered the store. By Joe, I mean G.I. Joe, who entered the army straight out of high school and frequents the local bar scene hoping to get laid by a college girl. As far as I know, few succeed. Living near an army base is great, between the explosions and sexual harassment. (The two men that I do know in the Army are exempt from this rant. You're welcome).
So, I'm working the cash wrap when Joe 1 and Joe 2 approach the head of the line. Joe 1 is slightly attractive with a dash of thug, i.e. not my type. I ask him if I can help him with anything.
Joe 1: Yeah, you sho can. I need a thirty dolla gift card.
Me: Okay, pick one out and I'll get that ready for you.
Joe 1: So, is it like, required to be gorgeous to work here?
Me: What? No.
Joe 1: I mean, you just have a really good looking group of girls.
Me: eh, thanks. That'll be thirty even.
Joe 1: So, you from Kansas?
Me: Yeah.
Joe 1: And you go to KState?
Me: mm hmm. Would you like your receipt with you?
So, Joe 1 and 2 finally begin their exit, but not before leering at my two bosses and announcing "See, they're even all the same height!" Okay, so a lot of us that work there are short, but this does not lessen the creeper factor.
I try to block the memory from my mind, even though I still found it odd that Joe 1 would hit on me while he was buying what I assume to be a present for a girlfriend. I finish my shift and prepare to leave the mall. As I walk towards the exit, wouldn't you know, Joe 1 and 2 are nearby. I avoid eye contact, and hear Joe 1 say, "Hey, that's her!" They both get up and follow me. Instead of going out the service exit (which is a rape scene waiting to happen) I head to Dillards, where they continue following me. After walking in circles, they disappear. For all I know they are still there.
Moral of the Story:
When Joe appears, get security involved.
So, I'm working the cash wrap when Joe 1 and Joe 2 approach the head of the line. Joe 1 is slightly attractive with a dash of thug, i.e. not my type. I ask him if I can help him with anything.
Joe 1: Yeah, you sho can. I need a thirty dolla gift card.
Me: Okay, pick one out and I'll get that ready for you.
Joe 1: So, is it like, required to be gorgeous to work here?
Me: What? No.
Joe 1: I mean, you just have a really good looking group of girls.
Me: eh, thanks. That'll be thirty even.
Joe 1: So, you from Kansas?
Me: Yeah.
Joe 1: And you go to KState?
Me: mm hmm. Would you like your receipt with you?
So, Joe 1 and 2 finally begin their exit, but not before leering at my two bosses and announcing "See, they're even all the same height!" Okay, so a lot of us that work there are short, but this does not lessen the creeper factor.
I try to block the memory from my mind, even though I still found it odd that Joe 1 would hit on me while he was buying what I assume to be a present for a girlfriend. I finish my shift and prepare to leave the mall. As I walk towards the exit, wouldn't you know, Joe 1 and 2 are nearby. I avoid eye contact, and hear Joe 1 say, "Hey, that's her!" They both get up and follow me. Instead of going out the service exit (which is a rape scene waiting to happen) I head to Dillards, where they continue following me. After walking in circles, they disappear. For all I know they are still there.
Moral of the Story:
When Joe appears, get security involved.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
No, No, We've Met
Next to Halloween my favorite holiday of the year is Fake Paddy's Day. At K-State, St. Patrick's Day is during Spring Break, so our local bars host Fake Paddy's Day, the Saturday before Spring Break. The beer is green and ready around six in the morning. My sophomore year I attended my first Fake Paddy's and had a great time, with the exception of one individual. I was tagging along with the campus radio station, handing out t-shirts and what not. One gentleman had brought his ill at ease frat brother with him. The guy was creeper extreme, kind of huddling outside the conversations, but not really doing a good job of involving himself. He kept smiling at my friend Tara and I, looked like he was going to say something, and then thought better of it.
Tara and I began taking pictures of each other and our surroundings. We both looked up and creeper was holding a camera in our direction. We both had deer in the headlights looks and then turned away. I didn't think he got a picture, but turns out I was wrong.
The next year I was taking a constitutional law class, and wouldn't you know, creeper was in my class. I ignored him, though he tried to catch my eye. About a week into class he adds me on facebook. I didn't even know his name until then, since we had never talked. Before adding him, I took a look at his facebook photos. In one of his albums was a picture of Tara and I in the middle of looking away. Not only had he taken the picture, he proceeded to post it on his facebook! The following e-mails ensued:
Tara and I began taking pictures of each other and our surroundings. We both looked up and creeper was holding a camera in our direction. We both had deer in the headlights looks and then turned away. I didn't think he got a picture, but turns out I was wrong.
The next year I was taking a constitutional law class, and wouldn't you know, creeper was in my class. I ignored him, though he tried to catch my eye. About a week into class he adds me on facebook. I didn't even know his name until then, since we had never talked. Before adding him, I took a look at his facebook photos. In one of his albums was a picture of Tara and I in the middle of looking away. Not only had he taken the picture, he proceeded to post it on his facebook! The following e-mails ensued:
Me: Hi, I don't mean to be rude, but seeing as I don't know you, I would appreciate it if you would remove that picture of me from your facebook photo album. It makes me uncomfortable having my picture displayed on your site, especially since I clearly was not aware it was being taken. Thanks.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Did I impregnate you in my sleep? My bad.
This particular incident didn't happen to me, it happened to my sophomore creeper-magnet roommate. (She's a sophomore, not the creepers). We'll call her Lolita. Now, Lolita had a mild crush on a popular school mascot of the freshman persuasion. Lolita and Mascot had an ongoing flirtation, and hung out sober. Despite the six month age gap, Lolita was becoming increasingly attracted to Mascot. One night, both Lolita and Mascot hung out and went to a few parties together. Alcohol was involved, as is common at college functions, and being a young one, Mascot drank more than necessary. Back at our house, Lolita and Mascot participated in an innocent make-out session before heading to bed. The next day all seemed well. Or so Lolita thought. Later that evening she received a text message from Mascot.
"I didn't mean to make out with you and fall asleep in your bed. I hope things aren't awkward now."
Well, they are now buddy. Lolita, more amused than hurt, wrote off Mascot. Three weeks later she began getting text messages from him again.
"I'm sorry about what I did. I'm just so intimidated by you. You are such a beautiful older woman."
Needless to say, Lolita has moved on.
Moral of the story:
Leave the mask on the mascot and pay attention to whose mouth and bed you pass out on.
"I didn't mean to make out with you and fall asleep in your bed. I hope things aren't awkward now."
Well, they are now buddy. Lolita, more amused than hurt, wrote off Mascot. Three weeks later she began getting text messages from him again.
"I'm sorry about what I did. I'm just so intimidated by you. You are such a beautiful older woman."
Needless to say, Lolita has moved on.
Moral of the story:
Leave the mask on the mascot and pay attention to whose mouth and bed you pass out on.
My friend here is a mute
On two separate occasions in the last year I have had guys who sent their friends to do their dirty work.
The first occurred during my friend Megan's 21st birthday at the Casinos. First of all, while in line to get our cards, some guy accosted Megan, and told her to tell me that I was "Smoking." Apparently not smoking enough for him to actually talk to me himself. Then, we were all in a group, huddled around a slot machine, when I noticed two white trash guys looking at me. The whispered to each other and then the taller one approached me. "Hey, my friend over there wants to buy you a drink." Disgusted by his friend's inability to tell me that himself, I informed the guy that I was a recovering alcoholic. He apologized profusely and walked off. Apparently he didn't find it odd that a recovering addict would hang out at a casino. Funny enough, every other time I saw those guys that night, I didn't have a drink in my hand.
The second time was when I was out at the bars with my girlfriends. Again, I noticed two guys staring and whispering. One was a skinny little white boy, no more than 5'6", and the other was a tall, 250 pound Mexican. The larger fellow came up to me and the following conversation ensued.
"Yo, my homie over there wants to dance witchu."
"Well, I'm not really a good dancer."
"That's cool, just give him five minutes."
"Ok, honestly, I'm just here to have a girls night, and I'm not really interested."
"Seriously, he's a really cool guy. You should dance with him."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, he made you ask for him, and I already told you I am just looking to have a girls night."
"Ooookay, but I still think you should give him a chance."
There is so much wrong with this. When a girl says no once, back off, she is not going to change her mind. It only makes her begin to fear for her safety. I was not playing hard to get.
Moral of the Story:
Past the age of 12, if you find a girl attractive, approach her yourself, don't send a friend.
The first occurred during my friend Megan's 21st birthday at the Casinos. First of all, while in line to get our cards, some guy accosted Megan, and told her to tell me that I was "Smoking." Apparently not smoking enough for him to actually talk to me himself. Then, we were all in a group, huddled around a slot machine, when I noticed two white trash guys looking at me. The whispered to each other and then the taller one approached me. "Hey, my friend over there wants to buy you a drink." Disgusted by his friend's inability to tell me that himself, I informed the guy that I was a recovering alcoholic. He apologized profusely and walked off. Apparently he didn't find it odd that a recovering addict would hang out at a casino. Funny enough, every other time I saw those guys that night, I didn't have a drink in my hand.
The second time was when I was out at the bars with my girlfriends. Again, I noticed two guys staring and whispering. One was a skinny little white boy, no more than 5'6", and the other was a tall, 250 pound Mexican. The larger fellow came up to me and the following conversation ensued.
"Yo, my homie over there wants to dance witchu."
"Well, I'm not really a good dancer."
"That's cool, just give him five minutes."
"Ok, honestly, I'm just here to have a girls night, and I'm not really interested."
"Seriously, he's a really cool guy. You should dance with him."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, he made you ask for him, and I already told you I am just looking to have a girls night."
"Ooookay, but I still think you should give him a chance."
There is so much wrong with this. When a girl says no once, back off, she is not going to change her mind. It only makes her begin to fear for her safety. I was not playing hard to get.
Moral of the Story:
Past the age of 12, if you find a girl attractive, approach her yourself, don't send a friend.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
You Can Call Me Daddy
Okay, so no one has ever actually said that to me, but this guy may as well have. For a short period of time I worked in the fabrics department at Hobby Lobby (I have an obsession with yarn, lay off me). One day this guy comes in, probably in his early forties with two children. His daughter was at least 15, i.e. six years younger than me at the time. He was asking for help finding some materials for his daughter to make costumes for a play, something to do with Africa, I don't remember. I have worked in customer service jobs for awhile, so I am just doing my best to help them out. He seems like a really nice guy, you know, for being old. He also somehow manages to slip into the conversation that he is divorced from his children's mother. Whatever.
A week later buddy returns sans children needing more help. This time I am getting an awkward flirty vibe from him, so I do my best to help him, then point him to another area of the store. Well, he leaves, gets the stuff and comes back. He thanks me for my help and then says, "Can I ask you a question?" I swear I had a mild anxiety attack, having an idea of what was coming next. "Um, sure."
"Can I take you out to coffee sometime?"
I'm surprised I didn't die from a combination of embarrassment and disbelief right there. My entire face turned bright red, and it was all I could do to just half smile and say, "No...sorry."
My flat out no, mixed with the look of absolute horror on my face sent him running, "Well, I figured it couldn't hurt to ask." Then he was gone. I am just confused as to what gave him the idea he had a chance. I also wished at that moment that I was still underaged, meaning men like him were not allowed to ask me such questions. If he had asked me to mentor his daughter, sure, since we would have more in common anyway.
Moral of the Story:
Don't be nice to 40 year old divorced dads, they will confuse it with flirting.
A week later buddy returns sans children needing more help. This time I am getting an awkward flirty vibe from him, so I do my best to help him, then point him to another area of the store. Well, he leaves, gets the stuff and comes back. He thanks me for my help and then says, "Can I ask you a question?" I swear I had a mild anxiety attack, having an idea of what was coming next. "Um, sure."
"Can I take you out to coffee sometime?"
I'm surprised I didn't die from a combination of embarrassment and disbelief right there. My entire face turned bright red, and it was all I could do to just half smile and say, "No...sorry."
My flat out no, mixed with the look of absolute horror on my face sent him running, "Well, I figured it couldn't hurt to ask." Then he was gone. I am just confused as to what gave him the idea he had a chance. I also wished at that moment that I was still underaged, meaning men like him were not allowed to ask me such questions. If he had asked me to mentor his daughter, sure, since we would have more in common anyway.
Moral of the Story:
Don't be nice to 40 year old divorced dads, they will confuse it with flirting.
Michigan
This was probably my first uncomfortable experience with a man, no, a boy. My junior year of high school I was involved in competitive speaking and qualified for the national tournament in Boston. The trip was awkward for many reasons, not just boys. First of all, my coach was a young divorcee who was dating. Prior to the trip a classmate had discovered her online dating profile in which she alluded to enjoying self-love. While I understand that a woman has needs, as a her 17 year old student I did not want to be aware of these needs. Every time she would mention meeting someone online I would cringe. But I digress.
The other awkward situation concerned my roommates. Since I was the only one from my high school to qualify, I roomed with girls from other schools in our district. I had to share a bed with a stranger, which wasn't a huge deal, until I found out she was a lesbian. Cool.
Also, while shopping at the GAP with my coach, I was accosted by a women who told me that she worked for the bunny ranch in Nevada (a whorehouse), and asked if I would be interested in working there.
Back to the male front. During one of my rounds there was a very intense performer by the name of Chris, from Detroit. I was impressed by his performance and flattered when after the round he asked me if I wanted to join him for lunch. Considering I had no friends with me in Boston this was great. After lunch, Chris asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with him after we were done competing. I said sure, why not.
Well, dinner was when things got weird. He was very touchy feely, holding my hand and acting really attached. As a 17 year old prude this was very disconcerting. After dinner we went back to the hotel and sat on a couch in one of the lobbies. He began stroking my arm and kissing my forehead. If I were older and had known him longer this wouldn't have been odd, but then he started asking me why I couldn't move to Michigan. He didn't just say it once, he said it multiple times. "I wish you would move to Detroit, you are such a cool girl." Mind you, I hadn't really talked much this entire evening because he was giving me the heebee jeebees. So how he had been able to ascertain that I was a cool girl is beyond me. At this point I freaked and said I was sick and bade him adieu. He tried calling but I ignored it.
My coach on the other hand, had a lot better luck than I did. On the plane ride home she hit it off with the guy sitting next to her and they exchanged screen names. Go figure.
Moral of the story:
While Boston is great, it was the source of many awkward pseudo-sexual experiences. Also, guys from Detroit are nutty.
The other awkward situation concerned my roommates. Since I was the only one from my high school to qualify, I roomed with girls from other schools in our district. I had to share a bed with a stranger, which wasn't a huge deal, until I found out she was a lesbian. Cool.
Also, while shopping at the GAP with my coach, I was accosted by a women who told me that she worked for the bunny ranch in Nevada (a whorehouse), and asked if I would be interested in working there.
Back to the male front. During one of my rounds there was a very intense performer by the name of Chris, from Detroit. I was impressed by his performance and flattered when after the round he asked me if I wanted to join him for lunch. Considering I had no friends with me in Boston this was great. After lunch, Chris asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with him after we were done competing. I said sure, why not.
Well, dinner was when things got weird. He was very touchy feely, holding my hand and acting really attached. As a 17 year old prude this was very disconcerting. After dinner we went back to the hotel and sat on a couch in one of the lobbies. He began stroking my arm and kissing my forehead. If I were older and had known him longer this wouldn't have been odd, but then he started asking me why I couldn't move to Michigan. He didn't just say it once, he said it multiple times. "I wish you would move to Detroit, you are such a cool girl." Mind you, I hadn't really talked much this entire evening because he was giving me the heebee jeebees. So how he had been able to ascertain that I was a cool girl is beyond me. At this point I freaked and said I was sick and bade him adieu. He tried calling but I ignored it.
My coach on the other hand, had a lot better luck than I did. On the plane ride home she hit it off with the guy sitting next to her and they exchanged screen names. Go figure.
Moral of the story:
While Boston is great, it was the source of many awkward pseudo-sexual experiences. Also, guys from Detroit are nutty.
The Kling-On
Last year I attended a Christmas party hosted by a friend. Afterwards I went to the bars and ran into a guy that had been at the party. I think his name was Brandon, but I could be wrong. Anyway, we talk a little, and he convinces me to give him my number. I go home and not ten minutes later I start getting text messages.
"You looked really sexy tonight. We should hang out."
Okay, I'll admit, I am somewhat to blame for responding. However, I was bored with life at the moment and figured, what the hell, I should live a little. I tell Brandon (?) that we should hang out tomorrow night.
The next night my friend Kylie and Michelle and I were watching marathons of The Santa Clause (we rock) when Brandon came over to join us. He mentions having lived in Texas, so being the polite host that I am, I ask why he is now in Kansas. Bad idea. This launches a 15 minute diatribe on how his parents got divorced, his mother is a dirty whore who he hasn't seen in 10 years, and he may or may not have a half-sibling that attends K-State. Whoa! Dude is crazy!
Now, I am trying to figure out a polite way to get him to leave. I move to the opposite side of the couch and lean against it. Instead of realizing that I am trying to distance myself from him, Brandon sees this as an invitation and lays up against me. Did I mention that we met the night before? I begin talking with Kylie and Michelle, and mentioning how crazy I am. This has the opposite effect and he just cuddles closer. Finally I mention having to get up early for class, so he gets the hint. I give him a church hug (read: chest forward, hips back so there is no contact with the pelvic areas) and send him on his way. Again, not ten minutes later:
"You looked really sexy tonight"
This time I am a little smarter and just ignore him. I made a mistake, now that uncomfortable moment is over. Except it's not.
The next day I get about ten text messages from him, which I ignore. Then, he leaves me a five minute long voicemail about how bad he wants to hang out with me and he hopes I didn't have beer goggles when I met him. This is all very attractive from my standpoint.
The day after, (we're at day four since meeting), I message him saying that I'm just not that interested. He then proceeds to get angry. One memorable text message read; "You know, I have a word for people like you, who don't respond to text messages (even though I had, telling him to buzz off): a CRAZY LIBERAL!" I never mentioned any thing concerning politics, so I can only guess that he did a bit of facebook stalking. Now, riddle me this, what on earth do my political views have to do with not wanting to date Mr. Nutbag? I'm pretty sure any self-respecting conservative girl would have felt the same. Also, keep in mind that we had known each other for FOUR days, and our only contact consisted of watching the Santa Clause with two of my friends. By the fifth day I enlisted the help of my friend Morgan, who is bigger than Brandon, to call him. I'm not sure what Morgan said to Brandon, but I haven't heard from him since.
Moral of the Story:
Don't respond to "You're so sexy text messages" from someone you just met.
"You looked really sexy tonight. We should hang out."
Okay, I'll admit, I am somewhat to blame for responding. However, I was bored with life at the moment and figured, what the hell, I should live a little. I tell Brandon (?) that we should hang out tomorrow night.
The next night my friend Kylie and Michelle and I were watching marathons of The Santa Clause (we rock) when Brandon came over to join us. He mentions having lived in Texas, so being the polite host that I am, I ask why he is now in Kansas. Bad idea. This launches a 15 minute diatribe on how his parents got divorced, his mother is a dirty whore who he hasn't seen in 10 years, and he may or may not have a half-sibling that attends K-State. Whoa! Dude is crazy!
Now, I am trying to figure out a polite way to get him to leave. I move to the opposite side of the couch and lean against it. Instead of realizing that I am trying to distance myself from him, Brandon sees this as an invitation and lays up against me. Did I mention that we met the night before? I begin talking with Kylie and Michelle, and mentioning how crazy I am. This has the opposite effect and he just cuddles closer. Finally I mention having to get up early for class, so he gets the hint. I give him a church hug (read: chest forward, hips back so there is no contact with the pelvic areas) and send him on his way. Again, not ten minutes later:
"You looked really sexy tonight"
This time I am a little smarter and just ignore him. I made a mistake, now that uncomfortable moment is over. Except it's not.
The next day I get about ten text messages from him, which I ignore. Then, he leaves me a five minute long voicemail about how bad he wants to hang out with me and he hopes I didn't have beer goggles when I met him. This is all very attractive from my standpoint.
The day after, (we're at day four since meeting), I message him saying that I'm just not that interested. He then proceeds to get angry. One memorable text message read; "You know, I have a word for people like you, who don't respond to text messages (even though I had, telling him to buzz off): a CRAZY LIBERAL!" I never mentioned any thing concerning politics, so I can only guess that he did a bit of facebook stalking. Now, riddle me this, what on earth do my political views have to do with not wanting to date Mr. Nutbag? I'm pretty sure any self-respecting conservative girl would have felt the same. Also, keep in mind that we had known each other for FOUR days, and our only contact consisted of watching the Santa Clause with two of my friends. By the fifth day I enlisted the help of my friend Morgan, who is bigger than Brandon, to call him. I'm not sure what Morgan said to Brandon, but I haven't heard from him since.
Moral of the Story:
Don't respond to "You're so sexy text messages" from someone you just met.
In the beginning
I have had good experiences with men, I've had bad experiences with men. Mostly, however, I've had WEIRD experiences with men. For God knows what reason I have the uncanny ability for attracting the most bizarre of the Y-Chromosome holders. So, I felt it appropriate to put these odd encounters into writing. Enjoy.
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