Dear Men of the World: I probably don’t actually want to bang you

I don’t think I’m the only lady this happens to, but I’m supremely sick of it. The story goes, you’re having a conversation with a man–he can be a stranger, someone you’re helping in a service capacity, friend of a friend, enemy–anyone. The conversation is typically light and in no way flirtatious.

You say something like, “I’m going to grab another drink, would you like one?” or “Can I help you with anything else today?” or “You’re pretty drunk, do you have a ride home?” and he responds with “I have a girlfriend/I’m married.”

Men of the world, I’m glad you have a girlfriend or are married, but odds are, I did not want to bang you in the first place.  Is is so necessary to pre-emptively reject me before I had the chance to not make any sexual overtures?

This has happened over and over for as long as I have been having conversations with men, but I was re-reminded of it the other day via another blog of mine: closedstacks.wordpress.com.  I had written a blog commenting on a run-in with a library patron who wanted a book by Glenn Beck.  The encounter struck me as odd, so I wrote about it.

A conservative librarian read my words, took offense, and we had a merry squabble in the comments section culminating in me saying: “Clearly you and I will not be having dinner together anytime soon, John, and I’m sorry you feel I handled this poorly. I wouldn’t change anything that I did, however, and then next time a patron tries to engage me in political debate, I will deflect it in the same way.”

And him responding with: “I would love for my wife and I to have dinner with you. Because everyone has value.”

So, John and I are (at least politically) mortal enemies, but he still feels the need to tell me that he has committed himself on paper to another human being just in case I might be getting the wrong impression.  He also lives 1,058 miles away from me, and I don’t want to have dinner with him at all since just typing back and forth gave me a bit of a headache.

If movies and television have taught me anything, it’s that men actually hate or resent their wives and girlfriends for castrating their freedom to grunt and eat exclusively bacon.  Why then do they constantly inform uninterested parties of these ladies’ existence?  Is it so that they don’t get into trouble for withholding information from other females?  If I were to run into wife or girlfriend somewhere else and mentioned I’d clapped eyes on her mate once and he never told me about her would that relegate him to months on the couch?

It’s a sad state of affairs if one’s relationship is that pathetic, but that may just be the case.

Potential men I may meet someday, I just want you to know: I have a boyfriend.  There, now we can talk about something else.

August 26, 2010 Posted by | by theagirl, Gentleman Callers, seriously? | , , , | 1 Comment

an open letter to 40-year-old virgins who aren’t nearly as cuddly and non-threatening as the main character in the movie of the same name

Dear Sir:

I realize that you were just trying to be friendly, but I have to tell you– you’re friendliness has a distinct air of desperation-bordering-on-scariness about it. I spoke to you because you are an acquaintance of a friend, and because we were sitting next to each other at the bar. Really I would have preferred to watch the TV.

In the spirit of self-improvement I feel I should tell you that mentioning your match.com account within 10 minutes of conversation (not even constant conversation), is not a smooth move. I am happy that you are on facebook, but you will never be a friend of mine on facebook regardless of how many times you mention it. I don’t know if you could tell, but I didn’t want to give you my last name, certainly not a phone number or email address. I could see you hovering and trying to talk to me again when I had turned away to speak with my friends, that is why I kept my back to you. Also, I wasn’t even really involved in the other conversation, I just wanted to shut you out in the hopes that you would go away.

Are you the type of man who at work eats a lot of carrot sticks and yogurt, but only in front of other people? The type who eat that particular lunch every day, never with any enthusiasm, or really lack of enthusiasm, but still everyone who sees you knows that it’s “diet food”. Everyone knows that you eat heathily during the day, but go home and binge on your fattening food of choice. That’s why, even though you consume 120 calories for lunch eat day, and say you exercise regularly, you never get any smaller.

I appreciate the fact that you like and respect old people, but I don’t really care. I’m sure that as a city councilman, it’s necessary to gladhand the seniors, but do we really need to talk about that? Especially since I never gave you any indication that I like old people, or even know any. Why can’t you re-group and think of something else to say if you insist upon talking to me. I feel like you do this often, and to many girls, perhaps you should have a ready list of topics to discuss in case she seems uninterested in hearing about how you LOVE text messaging and are CONSTANTLY getting text messages.

Was it really necessary for your friend to bring his laptop? We went to this event to watch the primary results come in, and there was a giant screen projecting that to the whole room. Also, you had some kind of hand-held device, which I’m sure has internet access, that I’m also sure would have become the topic of conversation if I hadn’t turned around when I did.  Is it that important that you see immediately what Wonkette is saying? Can’t it wait until you return to your empty bachelor pad and eat ice-cream and cheesecake until you feel slightly ill?  You know you’re just going to re-read it anyway.

The reasons you continue to fail with women are many, but very few have anything to do with anything but yourself.  Take this time to re-evaluate your strategies, or just stop trying.


the female population

January 12, 2008 Posted by | by theagirl, Gentleman Callers, letters | , , , | Leave a comment