In the last week, I have been “complimented” by three different men. Boy, it sure feels nice to get told nice things. It also feels like a load of bull when gents use the most ludicrous lines, or they are drunk, or they are, what I will call, backwards complimenting you, i.e. insulting you and attempting to pass it off as an honest compliment.
Earlier this week:
Dude*: You are just so irresistible!
ME: [straight up, literally, LAUGHING OUT LOUD], to wit: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Dude: Why are you laughing?
Why did I laugh uproariously when you told me in all seriousness that I am irresistible? Because you are ludicrous, man, ludicrous. That is so cheesy! I was wearing sweat pants. Sweat pants! I guess if I am irresistible, I can stop working on my come-hither stare.
*I call him Dude because I know he doesn’t like it. Dudes, why do you all dislike being called “dude” by girls? I heard it on the radio that that was true, and this guy confirmed that. I don’t get it. I will continue calling you “dude”, dude.
Friday night out with the ladies from work:
We were at a local bar, Busters, and a live band was playing – a cover band called IV Play. We ladies were just hanging out in our group of five, standing in that circle formation like chicks do, and observing the random gathering of people that makes up this bar’s crowd, when this old, slightly insane looking, dirty older man with thinning/no hair walks past one of my friends and straight up grabs her behind. WHAT?! It was weird and awkward. He didn’t even say anything, just kept making his insane migrations around the bar and always eventually standing close to our little group and giving us the crazy eye. He passed by again, and grabbed another girl’s behind. We were slightly creeped out. And by slightly, I mean completely. We were contemplating who would be the next victim and when he would strike again, when he appeared next to me. His face, and his terrible beer breath, were RIGHT UP CLOSE NEXT MY FACE, and he puts his arm around me. I was so grossed out. I did that shrink away and hunch down into myself reflex when a creeper appears next to you. I honestly think this guy thought he was somehow flattering me when he said, “Hey. Why are you so uptight? If you stop being so uptight, I will buy you a drink.” I am not sure why I appeared uptight to him. Maybe good posture and a terrified look in my eyes translates to being uptight to him? It was creepy. I didn’t take him up on that offer. He left again, and made more migrations around the bar, and eventually made his way past us once more, and grabbed one more girl’s behind. I think he got kicked out shortly after that. Shame, because he only had one more girl to serial molest and he would have gotten to us all.
Same night, Friday, different establishment:
One of my friends, in the group of us that stayed out later, is from the local area. Needless to say, she knows EVERYONE. So, in the course of the evening we ran into someone she knows from high school. With him, his older cousin. Now this guy could have been cute if: 1) if he wasn’t already wasted. We’re talking stumbling, bumbling, slur your words, doesn’t listen to a thing anyway else is saying, makes you repeat your name forty times because he doesn’t remember it from when you told him 2 seconds ago drunk; 2) if he wasn’t a sloppy drunk. He spilled his drink on me not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR TIMES. The fourth time, it was his entire drink, and my entire pant leg was soaked through. It didn’t seem to matter how far away I stood; and 3) if he didn’t arbitrarily talk about kicking people’s asses back in high school. He is THIRTY-THREE!!! He graduated high school roughly fifteen freakin’ years ago, and all he could talk about was back in high school how he used to kick some guy’s ass all the time. Anyway, in between spilling on me, asking my name, again, and bragging about how tough he was in high school, he tried very hard to attempt to get me to go out with him some time. He kept telling me how beautiful my blue eyes are, and how I seem really cool. It would have been better received from a sober, cuter, taller man. He says he’s gonna call me, but I hope he forgot my name. Again.
I know that a big complaint from men is that women don’t know how to take a compliment. Apparently we are supposed to just nod and smile when a guy tells us that we are sooooo pretty or that they think we’re beautiful. But you know what, men, sometimes we don’t feel pretty. Sometimes we feel ugly. So maybe instead of trying so hard to convince me I’m beautiful, you could tell me you really like how I did my hair today or the earrings I am wearing. I much prefer that to a blanket statement about “irresistible” I am. That’s great, dude.