This is a blog post for the guys of this world – For the poor gentlemen who don’t know when the time is right or wrong when hitting on a fellow female. There have been countless times where I and many of my friends have been hit on, and after the fact we wonder, what the hell was that guy thinking? Hopefully this blog will help clear up a little confusion and give guys heads up when not to hit on women in certain scenarios.
When thinking about this constant annoyance that all girls face and are forced to endure, I am reminded of a time, just a few weeks ago, when I felt embarrassed for a man trying to get my attention. It was the toll booth man. Yes, that’s right, I said it, the toll booth man. The one that sits in his little booth right off the thruway exit to Buffalo; and yes, I’m sure many of you have seen him. He’s an interesting fellow, on the shorter side, with slanty eyes that seem to sink towards his uneven nose- his balding head shining in the little toll-booth light, surrounded by a bushy white knotted mess. When I approached the little window and rolled down my own I knew right off the bat that it was going to be an interesting encounter. His beedy eyes examined me with such intense perverse invasion through his thick bifocal lenses. I felt violated merely by the way he looked at me, even though I was unattractively clothed in sweatpants and baggy t-shirt. Boots didn’t like this character either, and he was meowing in protest as I handed over my ticket and the money (almost $20 freakin dollars!). “Thanks doll,” toll-booth man cooed through eneven, spaced out yellow chiclet teeth. “Ew,” was the only thing I was thinking, imagining what his breath smelled like and thanking God for providing a steady breeze between my window and his. He stared at me uncomfortably as he ran my ticket through and counted my change. “Hmmm I think a pretty girl like you should give me her number,” he said slyly with what sounded like a southern drawl. “Oh my god, really? Just give me my change.” was all I could think, but I managed to muster up a tiny chuckle. He reached out his hand to give me my change and handed it over. Our fingers brushed for a moment and he released a loud and extremely disturbing sigh, “ahhhh.” He winked. I rolled up my window, gave him my dirtiest look, and drove away at a speed that would have most certainly gotten me a ticket.
Gentlemen, this is rule number one, do not hit on a girl if you look like cotton-eyed Joe, and do not sigh loudly when your fingers touch, because, in reality, she is not holding your hand, she is taking her change. This is not a cause to jizz your pants.
Another instance that comes to mind is several months ago, when I was shopping for flea killing paraphernalia at the food store. Sadly both Charzy and Boots transformed our home into a flea breeding ground and Lindsey and Erin and I were determined not to let these little vermin ruin the homely atmosphere that envelopes Space Mountain. In an effort to ruin these fleas and destroy them completely, we decided to get flea-killing house spray and douse everything in our house with it. (It worked magically by the way. We were flea-free almost immediately.) Anyways, I was at the store looking exceptionally scrungy, having been spraying our soft surfaces all day, and was merely re-upping in the flea-spray department. While comparing prices of various pesticides, and debating on whether to purchase the gallon size, or smaller, two grimy gentlemen strolled up. One of them thought that the opening line of, “What’re ya lookin’ for there sweetheart?” would attract me to him or something since he stood there with a dumb grin on his face waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, he continued with, “Ya look awfully pretty to be food shoppin’.” This guy was clearly unaware that I was obviously not buying food, but looking for the perfect flea extermination mechanism. How attractive. “Thanks,” I mumbled, mentally willing them to leave as silent friend number two was snickering at his really obnoxious friend. “Need help shopping?” he asked, mustering up enough courage to speak. “Nope, I know exactly what product to use to kill the fleas, thanks.” I responded, and both of them looked a little taken aback. Really men? Did you think this short-lived food store relationship was long term? I think not. Needless to say, these guys decided to end their shopping trip just when I did and stand behind me in line, trying to rekindle what they obviously thought we once had. I ignored them.
Rule number two, guys; don’t hit on girls if you’re going to be stupid while doing so. The other day the guy ringing me out at the food store was giving me googly eyes while ringing up my tampons. Really? Can you please take your eyes off my boobs and focus on what you’re ringing? Definitely not sexy. Jeez.
The other day I was on my way home from buffalo and I was inconvenienced by a bout of traffic. It was stop dead, and after five minutes of sitting and not moving a single inch, I decided to turn my car off and play with Boots for a bit. About ten minutes later, I realized that the car in front of me was filled with people – all waving at me. I was horrified to realize that about 6 faces were staring and waving at me through the rear window of a small, shitty chevy. No way, I thought, as the six Mexicans looked gleeful that they had finally gotten my attention. For the next forty five minutes, yes, I said FORTY FIVE MINUTES, all six heads were clustered around the window, waving, smiling, and blowing me kisses.
This brings me to rule number three, do not hit on girls if they have no escape route. And if she looks disgusted at your attention, stop giving it.
On Sunday I worked at the zoo. (Yes, I am still working as the snack bar girl because I’m super broke and on my days off I have nothing to do). While working, a middle aged man came up to the stand and blatantly checked me out. As if that wasn’t uncomfortable enough, he smiled as his eyes rested on my boobs, and asked me, “Can I have two wieners please?” He looked up at my face (finally) and winked. Great, I thought to myself, another dude that thinks its hilarious to call hotdogs wieners. As I handed him the dog, he leaned close and whispered, “Do you like wieners?” and winked again. Umm EW! I said, “If by wieners you mean hot dogs, then yes, I do. That will be five dollars.” Haha. I took his money and turned away.
Rule number four, don’t hit on a girl by making sexual references to food. It’s not a turn on. I am not going to start sucking on a hot dog for visual pleasure, nor am I going to wink back and tell you how much I loooove wieners. Come on now.
And lastly, I will finish this saga of a blog post with a retelling of a Victoria’s Secret experience. Last week I was in Victoria’s Secret shopping for lingerie (I have a secret obsession of buying unnecessary expensive items) and I was approached by a guy about my age who wasn’t particularly bad looking. He started checking out the lingerie too, and I thought to myself that it was so cute because he was probably shopping for his girlfriend. The thought of him being cute and shopping for his girlfriend quickly dissipated as he got closer and closer to the lingerie that I was examining until we were standing side by side. I glanced over and he was looking at me intently. He grinned and boldly asked me, “That would look really sexy on you. Want to try it on for me?” Oh, yes, sir, I always try on lingerie for random men that I meet at Victoria’s Secret. Seriously, what are you gentlemen thinking about when you ask a girl that you don’t know a question like this?!
The fifth rule is, you will get further if you don’t ask a completely inappropriate question right off the bat. I mean, in all reality, what girl is just going to gleefully try on lingerie for some dude she doesn’t know in a Vicky’s dressing room?
Now, by providing you with all of these scenarios, I am not saying that every guy is like this, or that all men are as brainless as this select few. If you hit on girls tactfully, you may get places, I’m not going to lie to you. As much as girls complain about getting hit on, it is somewhat enjoyable. It’s just a little reminder that you’re sexy and wanted. Although we moan about it to our significant other, or complain about it happening numerous times a day, deep inside we really enjoy it – if you’re not a weird-o and look somewhat cute when admiring. You all know you’ve done it, and hopefully you are smart enough to keep it controlled to that sideways glance, slight head nod, or even witty pick-up line. So that’s it boys, I hope you have learned from my storytelling, and ladies, I hope you chuckled because you all know that things like this have happened to you.