I'm the kind of person who says thank you when someone asks how my day is going. I don't take compliments very well, probably because I was brought up pretty Ukrainian (and we're too busy being peasants and eating pierogi to accept compliments). I also find it odd to be overly confident, especially when someone says something nice to me. Sometimes it makes me a bit sad that I cannot feel more accepting of compliments or help from others, but that's just the way it is unless I can meditate while putting crystals up my ass aka be more of a free spirit. But to sum it up, I'm not a confident person.
I have also been told I'm cold. I don't think hating everyone and perpetually burning in the flames of hell makes me cold, but maybe my spirit is cold since I'm dead inside. It's hard to say. But either way, if I'm at my measly half hour lunch break and am just trying to hustle for some pokemon, I don't want strangers trying to chat me up like we're long lost friends. I also don't want to ever deal with fuckboiz, so let me just #nope to that prematurely.
I had passed a young man dressed in a suit who was, oddly, carrying a vintage camera. I thought that was strange, but I know enough to not stare now. We walked by each other and I didn't make eye contact. Good.
At the end of my lunch, I started walking back to my office. This time, the suited camera man was walking behind me. I looked back, saw him make eye contact, then proceeded to walk a bit faster. Suddenly, I heard someone calling out to me: "Hey, hey!" I didn't initially respond, but then heard steps getting faster. I turned around, only to see SCM trailing at my heels. He seemed pleased that I had stopped. I assumed he was going to ask for the time, or something equally as ridiculous since he had practically chased me down like a daylight robber.
"I just wanted you to know that you're beautiful, and could I get your number?"
I have a huge problem with this. How is a dude chasing a woman down on a sidewalk an acceptable way to get her number? Ever? That seems overly threatening and not charming, despite the natural inclination I have to assume that romance isn't dead unlike I am inside. I felt very threatened, at least. He was practically chasing me down, and was holding this odd [under the skirt] camera that seemed very out of place for the rest of his outfit. I also felt a bit cornered at this point, since he had gotten in front of me and was standing very close to me while waiting for my answer. So I did what any chick who has been in this situation does- I went to gave him a fake number. There are a few psychological reasons behind this:
So I started to say the number of my boo thang, since one of my girlfriends had suggested that online. I had been waiting to try this technique so I could see how badly random dudes could be trolled (and we're both pretty damn good at trolling). But somehow in my repetition, I suddenly puked out my former fat fuck boss' number. Which is a landline. At my former job.
I don't know what happened. I had panicked over the area code. Once I got past the 3rd number, my brain unleashed a fury worse than a night on the toilet after drunken Taco Bell. Not wanting him to assume that I was giving a fake number and then get pissy, I committed to the number I had dialed many an afternoon while Hamburger McFatFuck was out ubering rather than managing the help desk.
So that, kids, is why you don't chase after girls, literally or figuratively, especially if they're just trying to mind their own and play pokemon and not get hit on every GD second of the day.
Please stop asking me for my number in such weak ass ways. If you're going to ask, at least get my fucking name first, you clown mobile.
Figured since I have't kept this at UTD as I'd like (getting pulled too many directions!), I'd jot down some of my experiences here:
I know I'm writing this after the fact, but figured I'd document it anyway since it happened on Monday and I had the idea on Tuesday to make a blog rather than whine on Facebook.
I was walked around Lake Eola looking for shiny Magikarp (why are they impossible to find) and had gotten to the area with the flags. It is almost directly across from the Disney Amphitheater. I usually like this part since it's shady and there are always a ton of swans out and about.
**Let me just interject really quickly that I HATE when people torment the swans. They step all up in their business like a street fight is about to go down and wonder why they get snapped at. Idiots. I particularly like the black swans. ANYWAY**
I was going to catch this high level Bulbasaur when this dude randomly sidles up behind me and goes loudly, "You're the best thing I've seen out here." I didn't know he was talking to me at first since I hadn't made eye contact (and know now not to), but he then came a bit closer and started rambling: "The swans hate me. The other people hate me. I'm not liked by anyone." I kind of smiled nervously, since I couldn't tell what his deal was. He wasn't exactly being rude or anything, just a little forward. He also wasn't picking up on any social cues. He was a mid 20s white male, chunkier, blonde, glasses, and wore an Orange County Volunteers shirt. I figured at this point he must not be homeless, just mildly unkempt. Since I had looked up at this point, he proceeded, now that he had gotten my attention: "It's not often you see someone so beautiful walking around the lake. What are the chances I'd run into you?" At this point I was getting a weird vibe, so I sort of laughed in a get-the-fuck-away-from-me-you're-being-very-forward-also-I'm-a-cat way and then continued to walk around the back side of the lake. He kept talking as he walked away, though he didn't say anything nasty to or about me. It was just a little unnerving and creepy.
I wore a grey dress with a black collar and sleeve caps with black pants (yes, it is the summer. Yes, I also hate my legs. And really like socks); I had on black glasses, no makeup, hair down. Maybe I can try seeing these interactions as positive, but for now I'll just document it all- positive or not.
Since this is my first blog of this flavour, I'll give anyone who cares some background. I figured it would be interesting as both a writer and a feminist to document how I am not, in fact, asking to be sexually harassed at any point during my day, but constantly am. I intend to document these occurrences the day that they happen, with detail regarding the men who harass me. This includes talking about their race, appearance, and general tone. It is not meant to make SJWs freak out, but merely to indicate that men of all types feel the need to partake in such pathetic and threatening behaviour. I know not everyone would engage or react the ways I do, hence why I said it's a documentation of MY experiences. TRIGGER ALERT: You've been warned.
I work in downtown Orlando and often take walks during my lunch break, mostly to Pokemon and get vitamin D. I typically only take a half hour every day unless I can join a raid or need to do something besides reminisce about childhood while remaining a completely nerdy, 27 year old gamer. I had walked around Lake Eola yesterday and was talked to there, but I'll post that more-normal-but-not-completely-appropriate story later. Today, I decided to take my old walk up Church before turning onto Orange.
Everything was fine until I went to The Heart of the Community marker, which happens to be on the corner of the library. Every local Orlandonian knows that outside of the downtown library hang a lot of weirdos. Some can't help it, and others are just rude ass clowns looking to make people (mostly women) uncomfortable. I often see homeless people there and try to avoid that area altogether since once, in broad daylight, I was followed by two men when coming back from a similar walk. I try to avoid that spot entirely now. Either way, I decided to do a raid at this monument though there were a few men around the bus stop. There are usually men and women at the stop, so I didn't see it as any big deal. Two AA women were walking and taking pictures of the flags. I sat down in the shade to do a raid, and immediately began:
"HEY MOMMA LET ME HAVE A PIECE OF THAT."
"DID YOU HEAR ME. DAMN YOU THICK. CAN I GET A PIECE OF THAT."
I assumed they were shouting at the two women, who turned around and said something along the lines of, "Can't even take a picture? That's nasty," to the men at the bus stop. Both men were AA, late 20's. One wore baggy jeans and a white shirt, the other wore what looked like a polo and non-ass-revealing jeans. The women promptly left, and I figured I would continue walking since I had finished the raid. I got up to go and sort of hid myself behind the light pole, at which point I heard a loud whistle and an "OK!" I crossed the street.
Upon getting to the other side of the street, a black car stopped at the light. It looked somewhat cheaply sporty, as if the person driving it was trying too hard at everything in life. A young Hispanic male, probably not even old enough to drink, rolled down the window and started shouting random things at me:
"DAMN WHERE YOU GOING LOOKING SEXY LIKE THAT. I'M TRYING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT. ARE YOU GONNA TURN AROUND OR WHAT. OK."
I stopped walking and turned to the car. There was someone in the passenger side but I couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. (Who am I kidding, it was probably a man.) I shouted back calmly, "Did you need something?" At this point, he must have found it just HYSTERICAL that someone would engage with his absolutely laughable attempt to cat call so he started laughing and rolling up the window. At this point, I flicked him off, to which I heard an audible "oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo," as if me being annoyed by this interaction was unjustified. An AA man who was walking towards me then proceeded to join into the ordeal by remarking, "That's what happens when you're a pretty woman." I remarked back, "People are so stupid," and proceeded back to the office. I don't think by chiming in he meant it in a creepy way, and I didn't take it a such. The cheap-looking-"sports"-car-driving loser then turned up his music really loudly, which I assume is his fail safe dick suck move when he blows it by actually talking to someone with a vagina. The windows were rattled, much in the same way I was.
As part of this new blogging concept, I figured I would include a picture of me on the days that people shout at me like a taxi. Below is the picture. NOT THAT MY OUTFIT JUSTIFIES ANYTHING, but I am wearing black pants, a long sleeve blouse (found on sale at Guess, holla), glasses, no makeup, and black classic Tom's. I also haven't washed my hair in three days, so there's that.
- The Human Taxi