Men behaving Badly
This blog is a bit of a rant about what happened to me this afternoon. Normal service will resume tomorrow when I post about a revealing…
This blog is a bit of a rant about what happened to me this afternoon. Normal service will resume tomorrow when I post about a revealing chat with Carol and Charles. xx
Life doesn’t make life easy, does it? Have any of you read Terry Pratchet? He has a character in his books called DEATH who keeps intervening. Perhaps I should have one called LIFE. It seems to throw many curved balls just when you least expect them. (Perhaps my US followers could explain the term. I know what it’s intimating, not the literal meaning.)
What am I wittering about? MEN! Or to be more precise one in particular who this afternoon nearly managed to sully the whole pool for you other guys. In the end, it may have actually done you a favour.
I don’t need to go over where I am on the question of MEN. I’ve covered it ad nausea ( I know that’s the wrong word but in the context of this blog it’s somehow right) in previous blogs, but you will know that after my adventures with Charles and Craig I was beginning to think I might be entering the light from my dark period.
This individual whilst not bolting the door had a good try at slamming it closed in my face.
This blog isn’t sexual. It probably isn’t for those males of a nervous disposition either.
I was shopping earlier, nothing exciting just the usual groceries, and popped into a coffee shop for a break. Armed with my mocha and carrot cake I chose a table in the window and started answering some tweets. I became engrossed when I heard a chair opposite me being dragged out and a voice saying “Okay if I sit here?”
“Fine,” I replied without looking up.
Probably a minute or so went by when I heard the voice again “Engrossing book?”
This time I did look up. You don’t know what I do and I’m not telling you, but it does involve a high degree of concentration to absorb detail, and whenever I’m concentrating on anything I don’t like interruptions so I didn’t welcome the intrusion.
I looked at the man. Probably mid-thirties, handsome if you like the slick salesman ‘Apprentice’ contestant style. I don’t. I also glanced around the cafe. There were ample empty tables. My predator alarm swung heavily into the red zone.
I know I’m on here teasing you guys, showing myself in public, but it’s on my terms. I’d had enough of MEN enforcing their terms. And I wasn’t provocatively dressed. I was wearing jeans, not tight, and a thin high-neck sweater which was baggy so even my tits weren’t emphasised.
I looked at the guy, simply said “I’m working,” and went back to the tweets.
Two minutes and he pipes up again, “It’s Saturday, a lovely woman like you shouldn’t be working today. Let me buy you another coffee.”
I’m not making this up. He really did say that. Perhaps he was a fired candidate from the Apprentice, it sounded like the trite rubbish they come out with.
I ignored him, but I was getting a little agitated. Two years ago and I would already have rushed from the cafe. Holding my ground was a victory in itself.
“Please let me buy you a coffee. Or perhaps you’d like to go for a drink.”
That would have made me lose it even six months ago. Now? I decided to see how much of his macho image was real. “What, then back to your place for a quick fuck?” I said it quite loudly and saw a couple of heads turn at the nearest tables.
His reply was, “If you’d like to, of course.” Jeez, he was so far up himself he actually thought I meant it.
“I was being facetious,” I responded, “I have no wish to have a coffee with you, a drink with you, or a fuck with you. Please move to another table.” That got more heads turning! I suppose after last week’s walk with my tits out, saying a few naughty words in a cafe didn’t rank on the embarrassment scale.
The scary thing was my tirade didn’t bother him. “No, I’m fine here thanks. I like the view.”
By this time I’d tweeted about him, asking if I should flash my tits at him or stick a fork in his cock. (My tweet didn’t actually mention his cock, not enough letters!) Helpfully, most said I should flash my tits. Thanks guys, not the response I wanted! But one came up with a brilliant idea. I’d try it.
“Ah, the view, yes. The Lord Jesus has definitely endowed me with such bounty.” I gathered my jumper in to emphasise my tits. No way would he get the pleasure of seeing them.
I could see a flicker of puzzlement in his eyes.
“If I share your bed, will there be sufficient space for the Lord to be there with us?”
Now the look was definitely turning to one of concern.
“Ha, good joke.”
“What is?”
“You talking about Jesus like that.”
“You think I take the Lord's name in vain?” I’d raised my voice again and now had an audience!
“Oh, come on, stop messing around. Do you want to come for a drink or not?”
I’d had enough.
I could have moved to another table, but why should I and besides I suspected he would follow me.
I smiled sweetly at him, looked into his eyes again, and asked, “One more time, will you leave me alone?”
“No, come on we could have fun.”
“Wrong answer. You have won today's booby prize.” I picked up the salt cellar, unscrewed the top, and tipped the contents into his coffee. Terribly petty I know, but very satisfying. His face was one of horror. I leant forward and whispered. “No is no. Fuck off.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond, I picked up my bag and left.
By the time I got outside, I was shaking. Nerves and anger in equal measure. I disappeared into a nearby shop and watched to make sure he didn’t follow me but he emerged a few minutes later and stomped off in the opposite direction.
So. First was I unreasonable? Was it my phobia causing me to overreact? And second, am I being totally two-faced, doing what I’m doing, but reacting like that?
Honest answers on a postage stamp to…😀
Seriously though What is it with some guys? I know it’s only some, although they don’t wear signs saying “I’m a predator in the hunt for vulnerable women.” I know you probably think I’m taking liberties describing myself as vulnerable, but what I do is on my terms and the slightest hint of coercion or male ego and I’m afraid I react.
(Note to self. Watch follower numbers drop like stone)
On a more positive note, now that I’m home and had a chance to reflect on it I’m proud of myself for standing my ground like that. I am making progress!
