The other day, my friend Krissy told me that it seems like all the women of the world are syncing up their periods right now. I think she's right too. Ladies, by a raise of hands, who is about to start, is currently on, or just finishing their periods? That's what I thought.
Men should just hide now. It's for their own good.
I started my period Monday. So on Saturday, I found myself very much PMSing. Now, I'd had a very good, girly day with my new friend Sonja. She's awesome, bee tee dubs, and I'm sure I'll talk about her much more. But between the whole celibacy thing and PMS, I felt like if a man touched me I might just maim and dismember him.
So it's interesting that at karaoke on Saturday night, I kept getting accosted and literally and physically molested by more than a couple men.
I don't know if guys can smell the pheromones and turn into rabid beasts or if they're just that douchey, but it was out of control. Now, I'm used to getting flirted with. I also put up with a lot less than I did when I was, say, 21, but I've never liked being hit on. Never. We all know how much I detest getting hit on, but I typically get one guy making a move on a night out.
Never have I felt so hunted than I did on Saturday. I felt like a lone Wildebeest who had wandered into a pride of lions. It was incessant.
One guy asked me to dance, which I accepted politely, and then he proceeded to place his hands all over my body which I kept asking him not to as I dodged his penis being thrust into my hips. When I told him I wasn't interested and I was celibate, he said, "I'm celibate too!" Horseshit. Not getting any and being celibate are entirely different things.
Another guy grabbed my ass as I walked up to sing. After I was done, I told him, "don't grab my ass again." He said, "It wasn't me!" I said, "Do I look stupid? I never thought I looked stupid, but maybe I do."
Another guy asked me to dance and then proceeded to pick me up. Literally. I screamed at him to put me down and then he threw me around, his version of dancing I suppose, and just about pulled my arm out of its socket. I stopped and he went to push the hair out of my face. I backed up and said, "Don't touch my face." He goes, "Are you scared?" Um, what the fuck?
That's weird, right? Touching some girl's face? That's a really intimate act, if you ask me.
And these guys were untiring hunters. If one of us turned them down, they moved right on to the next one. Sex sex sex sex sex.
I have a tiny secret to let you in on, boyos: if you didn't act like assholes, if you would back off and not molest us and treat us with a little respect, we might have sex with you. Well, I won't because I'm celibate right now, but that's how I generally feel. Most girls I know feel the same way.
Look, you want a hooker, hire a fucking hooker.
But I have never experienced such primal hunting. At first, Sonja thought I was just that pretty, that the dudes here in Portland aren't used to a pretty girl.
Well with all due respect to my lovely friend, that's just not right. I get that I'm pretty. But I've seen many pretty gals here in the land of port. I'm not exactly Claudia Schiffer wandering into an Eskimo village.
But even if I was that unusually pretty, which I highly doubt, no way should men just go mad and turn into rabid beasts at the sight of me. Yeah right. No way. That's just bizarre at best.
So that left us thinking it was just the location. Maybe something about that crowd and maybe the cold weather and whatever is in the beer at our fave little karaoke bar turned the guys into horny sex werewolves.
But whatever the reason, it's not okay, guys! NOT OKAY! You don't get to assault women. You're not a fucking caveman. You might be as stupid as one, but knocking a gal over the head and dragging her back to your cave will land you some jail time. And rightfully so.
Back the fuck off. Talk to us nicely. Ask us our names. Remember our names. Try your best to be smart and interesting. And for the love of all things legal, do not fucking touch us unless we indicate it's okay to do so!
You'd think it wouldn't be so hard.
Yet Saturday night found me utterly exhausted from fending off the animals and rubbing my sore shoulder from my "dancing" experience.
And then they wonder why I'm celibate. THIS is why.
Can't a girl just go sing on a Saturday night without having to bring her mace and rape whistle? Fuck.
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