Submitted by megan on Tue, 11/06/2007 - 22:07
Once, many years ago, my ex was playing a show at Babylon. The show was over, the crowd had thinned, the band was hauling their gear; I was standing around, finishing my drink, in stasis, not quite bored, but with nothing to do. A few feet down the bar, I saw this guy I'd seen around our neighbourhood a bunch of times over the couple months prior.
I went over to him and said "Hey, you must live in my neighbourhood, I've seen you around Somerset and Preston a bunch lately." He hadn't seen me, but indeed, he did live in the neighbourhood, just two blocks away, in my ex-roommate's girlfriend's ex-apartment.
We chatted a bit, friendly-like. He swayed a bit. And a bit more. His friend came up to us and the three of us continued the pleasant conversation. The first guy tried to put his arm around me. Right. Girl by herself? Talking to a boy? Of course I would want him to put his arm around me. I slipped out, but he stayed close.
"So," Friend says, "How did you come to be here at the show by yourself?"
"Oh, I'm not by myself. I'm waiting for the band to pack up."
He looked confused.
"I'm dating the singer."
First Guy took a big step away from me, reared his head back, blinked hard, turned and wove off. I narrowed my eyes. Friend shrugged his shoulders.
If there is one thing in the world of Relations that I hate, it is fucking that. You don't have the fucking decency to finish the conversation once you decide you can't fuck me?
For years, Nile has been my male interpreter. When I ran this past him, his response was "But if he wanted to get laid, and knew you two weren't on the same page, why would he hang around and lose another opportunity?" and "He was really drunk, right?"
Okay, second point, whatever. I have done my share of too-many-beer things that I've been sorry for, but I do not excuse my behaviour on that basis and I do not excuse his.
First point, sure, it's late, at the bar, you're really drunk, this girl you don't know starts talking to you, it's your lucky night. And then it's not. But finish the fucking conversation, jackass.
Because you know what is not going to get you laid? Rudeness.
I bring all this up because a mild version of this story happened to me today. In the melee of the rama lotus hallway at 7:20 pm, I ran into a guy I'd seen around before. He had just been to a hot class and was sweating up a storm, bare chested and cut and quite aware of it. I'm sure lots of people would think he was handsome.
We chat a bit about this and that, get our coats on, our shoes. Out of the blue he says "And your Significant Other is into yoga too?"
Now, props are due.
Even if I am not excited about the person hitting on me, I generally feel very kindly towards them. It takes guts to do that, and I appreciate the effort. It's flattering.
He also gave me an easy way out, no matter my relationship status. If I'd been in an open relationship, say, I could have replied "Yep, but he's at the movies with his other girlfriend tonight."
Last, there was no gender assumption. I could just as easily have said, "Yep, but she does Mysore," and I know from the way the guy asked the question that it wouldn't have been a big deal.
Excellent all around. Until.
What I did say was "Yep, he really likes it." And buddy smiles a tight smile and turns away without saying goodbye.
I narrowed my eyes. Motherfucker.