September 8, 2009

How NOT to Pick Up a Woman

Last weekend, I went to the grocery store really early one morning. I was wearing ratty, torn-up jeans, a t-shirt, no makeup, my hair in a ponytail. So, while shopping, a big black guy approached me (I point out his race because I'm going to talk about this in a moment).

He said, "Do you know where I could find the starch?" I replied, "It's probably in the next aisle over, with the laundry detergent." He thanked me and left and I thought nothing of it.

Then, in the bread aisle, he approached me again, showed me his starch, and thanked me. Then this conversation took place:

Him: Can I just say how good you look in those jeans?
Me: (probably blushing) These jeans? Really? Well, thank you.
Him: Yeah, you look real nice. I'd like to get to know you better. Can we hang out sometime?
Me: I have a boyfriend actually, but thank you for the compliment.
Him: You do? That's too bad. Can we just be buddies?
Me: You know, I don't think he would approve of that...
Him: He doesn't have to know.
Me: Um, sorry, no.
Him: Okay, well, I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.
Me: Okay,'s always nice to be complimented. (quickly walks away)

So, at this point, I pushed it out of my mind and finished my shopping. Then I got in line to pay. While waiting, I noticed with indifference that he was in a line to pay a couple rows over. Then I realized I had forgotten a couple things, so I got out of line and picked out the forgotten items (probably took about five more minutes).

Then I went back into a line. And noticed he was now in the line right next to me (keep in mind, he only had a couple things in his basket and should have been done by this time). I avoided eye contact, pretended not to notice. But then I hear:

Him: Are you sure you won't change your mind?
Me: Yes, I'm sure.
Him: Your boyfriend doesn't have to know. You won't regret it.
Me: No.
Him: Okay. (under his breath) Damn, your body is so fine. Those curves...mmm.
Me: (ignoring and hoping the checker will hurry)
Him: You've got the perfect body. And those jeans...

At this point, the checker started ringing my stuff up. I paid, took my cart, and hurried toward the door. But at the door, I took a quick left, rounded back into the store, and went to the in-store Starbucks. I hid behind a column (yes, I really did hide) and watched the guy leave the store. The creep hesitated at the door, looking all around as he walked out.

It left me feeling VERY skeeved out. I tried being polite and all, but I really should have chewed him out.

Anyhow, the reason I brought up his race is that this situation seems to happen a lot with a certain type of guy. It's almost always a big black guy, dressed in athletic gear (as if he just left the gym). And each time, when I politely decline their advances (which are always pretty brazen, if not bordering on harassment), they don't stop. And they almost always say stuff about my body. Really, guy? You think I'll just hop into your arms because you're talking about my body like I'm already naked?

Ugh. It bothers me. Maybe I need to grow a pair of balls and just say something sharply like, "Back off, asshole. I said I'm not interested."

(Oh, I should point out that the fact that he was black didn't bother me. I just think it's weird that I keep drawing the same guy: race, build, athletic attire, creepy approach.)

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