My kids have gone to visit their dad for their annual summer visit, which makes me terribly susceptible to creepy single men as I suddenly don’t have a kid attached to my hip at all times. I seem to be surrounded by these creeps, even at home, because apartment complexes are where divorced men go to rot away and die.
Last weekend I was walking back into my building from shopping with a grocery bag in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other hand. My next door neighbor has a balcony facing the parking lot, so before I knew it I heard shouts of “Katie!” coming from above my head. I looked up with a feeling of pure dread and deep regret that I ever told any of my neighbors my name, and found the source of the shouting; it was indeed my next door neighbor, who was standing on his balcony with some friends. “Katie! Come up for a beer, I’m having people over. Just for a few minutes! Please!” I looked down at the beer in my hand and knew I had been caught beer-handed. If I refused I would look like an anti-social asshole. I said okay, but that I only had a few minutes since I had homework to do.
I put away my groceries and walked over to the apartment next door. I found a very drunk, single man neighbor which is never, ever a good sign for me. He proceeded to tell me that he has been watching for me because he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about me since the moment we met (during a fire alarm malfunction). He continued on to say, “I’ve even been looking for you at the pool but I never see you. I’m really curious about what kind of bathing suit you wear. You wear a bikini right?” Actually, no, no I don’t. I bore two children, so I don’t like to frighten families at the pool with the state of my stretch marks.
He asked what I do for a living and informed me that he is a partner at a CPA firm and can get me a job in his department. That’s obviously why I decided to go back to school, so I could inevitably whore myself out for a job. He went on to comment on how strong my arms and thighs look, and that I don’t look hairy at all, and he asked me how often I have to shave. He commented on my high cheekbones and clear skin. I’m glad my appendages are generally acceptable and not a bane to humanity and all, but the only thing I could think was that I’m not a fucking race horse, I am a human being. Is he going to ask me to present my flank for inspection next? Should I open my mouth so he can get a good look at my teeth? Is this the way dating goes nowadays?
Other fun questions/comments he had for me included:
“I am pretty wealthy. I have two vacation homes, one in Colorado and one in Florida.” Translation: I think it’s totally acceptable to try and pick up younger women by flaunting my money.
“Wait, you like sex right?” Translation: If you ever have a medical or emotional condition that doesn’t allow you to meet my sexual desires at all times, I will dump you so fast your head will spin.
“I’m snipped you know. It’s really convenient.” Translation: I won’t insult your intelligence by translating this one for you.
“What's your exercise routine at the gym? Do you lift? How many reps? I could help you tone up that tummy. I think working out with a woman is so sexy.” Translation: I like my women physically perfect at all times.
The most frightening thing about this encounter is that this sort of exchange is not entirely uncommon to me. I've had lots of other classic questions from men before I've ever even gone on a date with them. They go from questions that people obviously think are okay to ask you in person since the onset of online dating like:
“How much money do you make?”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
“You do get child support right?”
“Your kids don’t go to see their dad very often? Well, you could send them more, right?”
To the even ruder, sexual questions:
“You have a very athletic build, you must be agile.”
"You do shave everywhere, right?"
"Do you have any damage 'down there' from having kids?"
“Guuuuurl, can’t you just send me a few naughty pics? Come on, please?! I won’t show them to anyone, I promise.”
"You like giving blow jobs, right?"
Then there’s the worst thing about dating in the 21st century, the unsolicited penis pictures. Guys, I’m sorry to be the first one to inform you of this, but that particular appendage isn’t the most aesthetically attractive one. It really doesn’t have the photogenic qualities that you seem to think it has.
I guess I owe an apology to all single men, since I've been wasting my time working on perfecting so many aspects of my life that aren't my abs. I’m sorry, I didn’t know toned abs were the gateway to your happiness.
Here’s some possibly tragic news for all the single guys out there that I feel I need to convey, my value as a human being doesn’t reside solely in my vagina. It also is not limited to the amount of money I make, or the type of car I drive. I have thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams that you can’t see in booty pictures.
p.s. Please keep your dick out of the conversation until I’ve gotten to know it and you a little better.
I would like to say a heartfelt thank you to my friend Steve, who reminded me of the following, very apt, quote upon hearing about this situation. Many people should consider it a number one life rule:
“It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.” – Mark Twain