Showing posts with label sex at work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex at work. Show all posts

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Creepers Episode 4: The Needy Jerk Epidemic Part 1


Before I start, let me make it clear that I now have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is a man I that I pined over for too long while he ‘grew up’. He is still in the process, but everyday with him is a thousand times better than a million money-makin’ creep stories.
Nextly, lest us discuss the NEEDY JERK EPIDEMIC. Single ladies, (Even the not so single ladies) know what I’m talking about. (Yes, maybe even those heavy hitting Christian ladies whose parents pick out husbands for them might even know what I’m talking about…) There seem to be an abundance of men who are not only jerks, but then turn out to be really fucking needy as well.
Let me share a few examples from dating experience past:
Needy Jerk #1. College. 2009.: Let’s call him PRECIOUS. Yes. Precious. Precious bleached his teeth so frequently that they glowed in the dark and for some reason thought it was totally acceptable to don Abercrombie & Fitch from head to toe at the ripe age of 23. Precious was all douche-flirty at a party I was at. He told me I should be a model and then told my friend she should dye her hair back to its natural color. Not sure how this young lad obtained my number, but a few nights later I get a phone call from him asking if I could pick him up from the bar. My friend with dyed hair had ditched me earlier to hang out with some other needy jerk, so I was game for some chauffeuring.
I waited for him and saw him emerge from the bar literally beating drunk girls off of him. One stubborn one held on until he got to my car and he opened my door a crack and slid in and she just kind of eventually slid off. He skipped through the CD that was in my car and screamed like a small child: “OMG SNOOP DOGG!!” He gave me really botched directions to his house and when we finally got there he got all weird and handsy-hands and when he realized I was not into it he started BAWLING. I asked what was the matter and from his snot bubbled mumblings it was a cross between all of his past girlfriends cheating on him and his dad’s disappointment over his quest for a real-estate license. He still tried to get all handsy-hands despite his epic pity party, so I swaddled him in his cologne scented blanket/towel pile like a wee baby until he fell asleep and BOLTED.
The next morning, I was standing in on some retarded middle of nowhere college art critique when my phone would not stop going off. Low and behold it was Precious Captain Bleach Teeth. I got around to calling him back and he was exploding at me because apparently, somebody side swiped his roommates car, and the only logical suspect was little miss sober sensible pants me. He demanded to see my car… I said yeah go look it’s in the top corner of the parking ramp by that big black graffiti penis… He was like nooooo come over! I was like no way cry baby and hung up. The dude kept calling. He called for like 3 weeks ‘just to talk’. It was the freakiest shit ever. He’d be like “heeeey what are you up to? I’m going to the bar wanna hang out after?” Finally I just lied to him and told him I was actually a man with no penis. He believed me and I have not had to deal with him (Or return to that god forsaken middle of nowhere college) since.
More to come.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Creepers: Episode 1. An Introduction to my Creep-fest.


Before I begin I should make one thing clear: I HATE when people visit me while I am at work. I am usually in situations where I am being paid to a shit load of mundane tasks and chatting about them as a feeble attempt at small talk is not one of them. If you happen to see me, a simple 'Hello!' will suffice.
My jobs always include some sort of customer service, AKA, dealing with people. I use my 'work voice' (my stranger voice) which is friendly and misleading, because my real voice is too mumbly jumbly for anyone to understand.
This 'voice' that I must resort to using misleads old creepy men into thinking I am totally interested in every last dull creepy thing they have to say to me, causing them to linger and in turn causing me to laugh uncomfortably which IN TURN causes them to call up my place of employment posing as my dead grandpa wondering what my address is so they can 'send me gifts.' The biggest thing that gets me deep creeped is probably my uncomfortable laugh, which leads me to make this point:
Men, boys, dudes, and creeps alike: If a woman is laughing during a conversation with you, there is only about a 20% chance that it is a SINCERE laugh. The other 80% of laughs are either out of total and utter discomfort ("Does he not realize that I am here, in the park, reading alone because I WANT TO BE FUCKING LEFT ALONE?) or out of politeness ("I am thankful that I am talking to this nice young man in the sweater vest as opposed to the herd of leering bros who think its totally okay to shave off all of their body hair and go 'woooo!' every 30 seconds.)
Of course there's always my "I love you mr. boyfriend but I think you said a joke and I am not paying any attention to you because I am playing Peggle so I will let out a chuckle. What's that? Your mom lied to you about having diabetes? Oh. Never mind."
Anyway, even without my awkward laugh, my stupid 'work' voice, and my boyfriend hovering over me, I still manage to get creeped on. These are my stories.