Exit Stage Left: Bitter Rejection, Am I doing it Right?
As a woman, if you are any sort of attractive, you expect to be stared at. Whether you’ve got a cute face, a nice figure or the full package, men, and some women, are going to look at you. Intensely. Awkardly. Even creepily. No it’s not fun, but it’s part of life. People stare at things they find pretty. That’s why we sit and watch the sunset.
Most of us have learned to avert our eyes from those of our creepy admirers, ignore the eyes on our breasts and butts and just pretend that the dude’s eyes aren’t locked onto us like heat tracking missiles. All we can do is hope that the guy doesn’t muster up the courage to come talk to you, because it’s already awkward enough, thank you very much.
But lo and behold, he’s found his balls, and kudos to him, because we all know rejection is a wretched thing. He comes over, asks for your name and number, you aren’t interested and you let him know and he leaves with his head hung and his ego just slightly deflated – or completely flat depending on how fragile his self-esteem is.
Yeah, in a perfect world, we would have stopped at step one. Worst case scenario the slightly more awkward step two. But this world is as far from perfect as it could possibly be. So enter step three, the step from hell. The stalkers. Yes ladies, those guys who’re persistent to a fault, the Pepe le Pews of the world.
These guys don’t understand that no means no, not “maybe”, “try again”, or “give me five minutes to reconsider.” And so, as nicely as you put your rejection, they keep badgering. I’ve had my share of these. They trudge along beside you with very ineffective puppy dog eyes and painfully pathetic supplications.
And boy, do they have every excuse and justification in the book.
- “I just want to get to know you. You seem so nice.”
- “I want to be friends.”
- “I’d be perfect for you, just let me show you.”
Some people have more patience than others. I am one of those girls that tries to let guys down easy because I know how hard it is to approach someone you find attractive. I don’t think I’ve ever approached a guy I found attractive and asked him for his number. It take cajones I don’t have, the kind of courage that makes me glad that in our lovely stereotypical world, women do the attracting and men do the approaching.
But today, my patience was tried and it failed. When you get followed off the train, up the stairs, and onto the bus – a bus you know this man does not need to take according to the directions he asked you for earlier – the smiles start to crack and the bitch in you emerges ready to defend herself.
First of all, at last check, directions come in lefts, rights, straight-aheads and around-the-corners, so how did my name, number and what I’m doing on a Saturday afternoon come into question? Secondly, like I said above, no, especially when it’s repeated, progressively louder and angrier each time, means no, so…? Lastly and most importantly, why must you push me to my limits when I try my best to spare your feelings because I don’t want to be “the bitch.” Riddle me this, please!
With all that being said, it makes me question my methods. Would I lose my tails, those pesky little buggers, or even avoid picking them up at all, if I just came at them with an attitude from jump? Nobody wants to drive around behind a garbage trunk inhaling the stink, so I’d assume the same principle would apply. If I’ve got a stinky attitude, it would keep the creepy stalker dudes at bay. Or would it? Guess I’ll have to try it. Wish me luck darlings.
