I ranted in the last post, and the universe decided to remind me that there are men out there who love women.
I was out with friends and not enjoying myself. One of my other girlfriends mentioned on Twitter that she was at a place I’d enjoy and I invited myself over. Yes. I bailed on friends and crashed another’s night.
(If you heard how bad the music was, you’d approve of my bad manners)
At my second spot, I bumped into an old friend. Good times were had with my girlfriend and her girls. Drinks, laughter, dancing (such good music!), and eye candy galore.
Chilling in the smoker’s corner getting some air, a guy struck up a conversation with me. Not flirty. Just friendly, random, hey how you doing conversation. Not my type exactly.
Turns out dude is a writer, so talk becomes shop talk, and we keep talking until it’s time to leave. Turns out he’s friends with my old friend. So when it’s time to leave, we all head to a friend’s house to continue hanging out.
It’s now approaching 4 a.m. and people are tired. But the writer and I are still awake (insomniacs of the world unite!). Talk turns to going to an after hours and we decide to go. I know people at the after hours and feel totally okay with heading there with a virtual stranger.
We arrive at the party. Now, if you’ve never been to an after hours, the patrons can loosely be divided up into three separate categories: drunk and high off their asses, music junkies that want to hear the new good shit, people who can’t sleep.
I have this beacon, this siren’s song for all the drunk idiot mothefuckers who are high off their asses. Sure enough, 5 minutes after walking through the door, a stranger comes up to me, compliments my hair and tries to hug me. I don’t know him. I put my hand out and say ‘hi, no. No hugs.” Idiot mothefucker continues to babble on and I nod… really I’m just thinking I have to pee. But he won’t stop. He moves forward and into my “bubble”… I step back to reestablish the guidelines.
He moves forward… I step back. I’m now doing this ridiculous defensive dance that all women know the moves to. The Wachowskis may have made this move popular:
They were inspired by women in nightclubs trying to fend off guys who seemingly had 8 arms. I decide I need to remove myself from the situation and gesture to the new friend so that I can tell him I’m going to another part of the club.
He’s only been standing a few feet from me during this exchange, and had assumed that I knew the guy. Reading my body language, he realized that I was in…need? Distress? About to punch a motherfucker…? Anyway, he sensed it and…
Came over and pulled me to his side.
He did not try to exert any authority. He did not play the muscle. He just simply sent the signal to the drunk dude that I wasn’t alone. He greeted the idiot motherfucker and started a conversation with him.
Now. Here’s where I learned a lesson. I assumed that when a dude comes up to the girl you’re talking to, and he is literally a foot taller than you, PLUS looks like he benched pressed your weight at the gym that morning, you take that as your sign to leave.
Not idiot motherfucker.
“I was just telling your girlfriend how gorgeous she was…”
(sidebar: GAG GAG GAG GAG…bleeeeeech)
I have not said that this guy is my boyfriend and until he came to my side, you wouldn’t have been certain that we were even at this party together. This guy has only known me for about three hours, and now, this idiot motherfucker has called me his girlfriend. I look up to make the correction and he nods and pulls me closer.
Do you see how beautifully this was deflected?
They get to talking and I stand there thinking that I really have to pee. So I excuse myself. I come back and my “boyfriend” has gotten a seat at the all night poker game. I go say hello to my friend and chill with him for a bit. I go back to check on my “boyfriend” and…
There’s idiot motherfucker.
Smiling like a loon. He follows me over to the table. My “boyfriend” sees this and when I go over beside him to say “hi… I may just leave” (because this fool is following me), my “boyfriend” says, “hey…” and pulls me on to his lap.
Again. You think that would be enough to deter idiot motherfucker. BUT NOOOOOOO.
I move off my “boyfriend’s” lap and into a chair. Idiot motherfucker comes back…he’s bought me a beer (without asking). I say I don’t drink beer. He says “uh, I guess give it to your boyfriend?” I had the beer to the fake boyfriend.
Fake Boyfriend: “thanks baby…”
Me: “I didn’t buy it, Idiot Motherfucker did.”
Fake Boyfriend: (looks at idiot motherfucker) “thanks man, cheers.”
Idiot motherfucker sits near me. Wants me to sit closer to him. No.
My chair is on wheels. So idiot motherfucker would pull at my chair and I would pull away. He’d pull. I’d pull. Just as I’m thinking I should get up and make my way to the DJ booth, my “boyfriend” takes a drag off his cigarette, puts it down, grabs my ankle (which is the body part closest to him) and slowly pulls me back over. My “boyfriend” whispers to me “he’s annoying, huh?”
He knows. He’s aware.
Because my last post was fresh in my mind, I’m thinking, “wow. There are men out there who’ll have your back…”
NOW. Some of you are thinking, “well duh HLBB, he was just doing it so that he could fuck you later…” and I can say with full confidence that would be a no. There were plenty of opportunities throughout the night. He made no moves. He did not give that vibe. This was just him helping me out.
That’s what made it awesome.
Is STILL didn’t deter idiot motherfucker.
(I know right?)
My friend was packing up, I had work in a few hours, it was getting to be that time.
Idiot Motherfucker: HLBB, come sit beside me on the couch. Your boyfriend is busy.
Me: I’m good.
Idiot Motherfucker: No. I want to tell you all the ways guys fuck up with women…
I started to look for the hidden cameras. I’m being punked, right? HE’s going to tell ME how guys screw up with women. Laughed heartily. Called my friend over. Said condescendingly “should I tell him who I am? What I write?” We laugh and walk away.
That’s when you get the hint, right?
Not if you’re an idiot motherfucker.
My friend and I head back to the DJ booth. Who follows? Yup.
He walks towards me with his arms wide open to swoop in a hug. As he walks towards me, he says, “I know I know. You have the gorgeous boyfriend. But I don’t care. You’re beautiful…gimme a hug…”
I shoved him. Told him he was done. He joked that he liked it rough and was happy I was. I said that if he continued, he would get a beating and not from me…that’s because I saw security approaching.
HE thought I was referring to the fake boyfriend…
He really thought that I was being “ignored” by my poker playing “boyfriend”. He thought he could swoop in and be that nice guy who showers me with the attention I deserve. GAAAAAH.
But, even though this fucker kept pushing until I literally pushed back, what has stuck with me most is that this guy, a near stranger, had my back.
My fake boyfriend loved me and he told me he did.