Thursday, February 14, 2008

Ain't No Love (In The Heart of the City)...

Some of you may remember the story of when I got asked out by a picketer at Ralph's during the grocery store-worker strike a few years back: I had just crossed the line, and some guy was yelling after me (okay, normally I would have yelled at me, too, but I was out of cheese, and cheese is very important to me). I was throwing my bags in my trunk to get out of there as fast as I could, and this guy jogged up to the back of my car and told me I had very pretty eyes. I laughed because I was wearing sunglasses, and he said I had a pretty smile, too. I still turned him down.

I bring this up now because a friend of mine has a tote bag from a blog that says "L.A.: Where Dating Goes To Die" (it's from a fellow blogger) and with such lame pick-up lines as the ones I seem to get thrown, I can certainly see why! Try this on for size:

"Can I get your number?"
"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"Why not? Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No, but..."
"Are you a lesbian?"
"Then I don't see what the problem is."

Now, I know it can be hard for some people to muster up the courage needed to go up to a complete stranger and attempt to infiltrate his or her personal bubble, so when this guy didn't just accept my first, sugar-coated rejection, I actually had a little more respect for him. He didn't just retreat and cower, but he stood up to my gruff demeanor and standoffish edge and wanted to know why. That takes balls, and I like my men with balls (it's what separates them from the little boys... you know who you are). I could blame myself, really, for not just lying and telling him that yes, I did in fact have a boyfriend, and then proceeding to make up a slightly elaborate anecdote to make him seem real. I could have even whipped out my iPhone and showed him a picture of one of my guy friends (or, you know, Eric) and told him that "Yes, that's him; that's my man." But I didn't.

When he still didn't given up then, I really should have just lied and said that yes, I was a lesbian. Can't argue with that, right? You don't have the right parts, so sorry, guy! But again, I didn't. And then when he stood there, defiantly-- pouting almost-- I just got angry and defensive. "You don't see what the problem is? Clearly, it's you, dude!" You're not my type; I don't give my number to strange guys I meet in line at Starbucks; I'm not looking for a relationship. Really, pick one; they're all valid. But then I stopped and thought about it for a minute: while yes, I wanted him to respect my wishes and just give up (and the advice here this time is to be able to read a person well enough to know when you've crossed the line and should just accept what she says because maybe she's the kind of person who Just. Doesn't. Change. [Her.] Mind.), I had to admit the problem wasn't entirely with him. I just don't want a relationship. Period.

Well, I probably don't have to tell you the sour look that got as a response. I didn't think it was presumptuous of me to say, though, because whether he wanted my number to date or for a late night hook-up, I didn't want any part of it, and I didn't want any mixed signals, so I was brutally up front about it. That's who I am. But why is it that guys have such a hard time understanding (and accepting) that a woman can be happy being single? Are they threatened or jealous or both?

Personally, I love being single (it's really the only way I know how to be). I admit that part of it is out of laziness: I’ve never been one for clubs or bars, and it’s really hard to meet people other than out in public once you’re out of school and you realize that none of your co-workers are even slight possibilities. Granted, there’s always being set up by friends, but don’t get me started on that can of worms! Anyway, I love that I can sleep diagonally across my queen size bed and that the only rogue hairs I find at the bottom of the bathtub are dog. I love that I can come home at night and not find dirty dishes in the sink or pants on the floor. I love that I never have to watch sports or have eyes rolled at me for my compulsive reality show channel flipping. I love that I don't answer to anyone and that I'm not obligated to do anything specific on Friday and/or Saturday nights. I could go on and on really, and I know, I know: when you love someone, it's not an obligation... fine, whatever, but then doesn't that mentality just go to show that I should stay single for a good, long while?

Needless to say, I've always disliked Valentine's Day; I think if you're only getting special attention from that special someone in your life one day out of the year, you have problems that chocolates and roses can't solve. So, if you're like me and just curling up with your dog, a pizza, and some reality television, tonight, you might enjoy these very clever (but not at all romantic) Valentine's poems and/or some tales of dating woes from my new favorite Time Killers At Work. But for those of you that do enjoy the holiday, I have posted Mariah's newest single below; it dropped just in time to be a perfect way for such young couples in love-- or lust-- out there to celebrate.

(Clearly this isn't the official music video, but I couldn't figure out how to just post the mp3...)


Kate, Dating in LA said...

Wow!! That guy was crazy persistent. Not only have I never had a guy be that persistent (not exactly a complaint), but if he had been, I think I probably would have been scared. I would have jumped into the car, locked all the doors, and then pondered the wisdom of running him over. :) Yes, I'm pretty much a freak.

Single power!

danielletbd said...

I ponder running people over all of the time... oh you mean JUST because he was a potential threat? Never mind...

DC said...

Does MC really say "Imma hunt you down" in that track? Haha she kind of looks like Alyssa Milano in some of those pics!

Hope you have been having a great week. I moved my blog over to my actual URL, definitely stop in :) You're still linked at my new site.