An Open Letter to Old Creepers Everywhere
Dear sirs,
We can get along just fine. I even like you, for the most part. And, near as I can tell, you seem to like me too. However, we need to go over some ground rules 'cause the creepiness is getting extreme and making me uncomfortable.
First off, I really don't mind hearing that I'm pretty. It's actually the sort of thing that a woman really likes to hear on occasion. Except, you have a tendency to take this too far. Just say it once, I'll smile and maybe work up a sweet blush, ok? 'Cause saying it more than once is just fuckin' weird and makes it hard for me to work up a good response. Also, you may only compliment me on parts of me that are above my neck...I don't need to explain this, do I? Do I? Oh, and most importantly, that compliment about my "million dollar smile" is not a reasonable substitute for a decent tip. Ever.
Second, can we talk about the flirting? I'm okay with it. I mean, I get it. We all need someone to laugh at our terrible jokes and I'm totes fine being your amused audience. Just don't expect me to actually say anything back or do anything more let a bubbly little laugh out. For several reasons: a) you're old and tend to mumble b) my hearing's funny anyway c) if I'm at work, I have background processes running and am only devoting a very small portion of my brain to you and your bad jokes and d) your jokes are bloody awful when I do manage to hear them properly.
Lastly, don't touch me. Don't take this personally. I mean, I probably wouldn't enjoy being enveloped by your musty and sour old man smell even if I was normal, but I don't like anyone touching me. I know that pat on the back of my hand and the side hug and the kiss to the top of my head is sweet in your head, but I'm a young woman you hardly know! And, well, I don't like touching, which might be the most salient issue at hand.
Anyway, I'm glad we got that cleared up. I hope you understand that I enjoy seeing you, but think we should have some space in our relationship.
Sincerely,
Me
We can get along just fine. I even like you, for the most part. And, near as I can tell, you seem to like me too. However, we need to go over some ground rules 'cause the creepiness is getting extreme and making me uncomfortable.
First off, I really don't mind hearing that I'm pretty. It's actually the sort of thing that a woman really likes to hear on occasion. Except, you have a tendency to take this too far. Just say it once, I'll smile and maybe work up a sweet blush, ok? 'Cause saying it more than once is just fuckin' weird and makes it hard for me to work up a good response. Also, you may only compliment me on parts of me that are above my neck...I don't need to explain this, do I? Do I? Oh, and most importantly, that compliment about my "million dollar smile" is not a reasonable substitute for a decent tip. Ever.
Second, can we talk about the flirting? I'm okay with it. I mean, I get it. We all need someone to laugh at our terrible jokes and I'm totes fine being your amused audience. Just don't expect me to actually say anything back or do anything more let a bubbly little laugh out. For several reasons: a) you're old and tend to mumble b) my hearing's funny anyway c) if I'm at work, I have background processes running and am only devoting a very small portion of my brain to you and your bad jokes and d) your jokes are bloody awful when I do manage to hear them properly.
Lastly, don't touch me. Don't take this personally. I mean, I probably wouldn't enjoy being enveloped by your musty and sour old man smell even if I was normal, but I don't like anyone touching me. I know that pat on the back of my hand and the side hug and the kiss to the top of my head is sweet in your head, but I'm a young woman you hardly know! And, well, I don't like touching, which might be the most salient issue at hand.
Anyway, I'm glad we got that cleared up. I hope you understand that I enjoy seeing you, but think we should have some space in our relationship.
Sincerely,
Me