Taking a break from the norm, I was hanging out at the local baseball fields, supporting my friends who play in the gay softball league. Since I’m not a huge sports fan, I was desperately trying to follow what the umpire & players were yelling to one another.
“Play in, pinch hitter, relief pitcher, ERA, strikeout, runs batted in?”
It made me ponder my stats. Six years of the dating game, two serious relationships, countless dates. If I were batting, I’d be batting… whatever really bad is. I’m tired and emotionally drained. I’ve decided to bench myself for a few innings.
It seems now that I’m off the “dating field,” men keep pitching their lines to me, while I’m just trying to field them. Wherever I go lately, someone’s giving me their number or trying to get me into bed. I can’t even go to my local drugstore anymore due to the fact that an employee I once said “hi,” to continues to come onto me with lines like, “You’re trying to get into trouble, aren’t you?” Then, he slides his number to me with my receipt.
Even Barnes & Noble has become a danger zone. Innocently looking for a book, I find myself being cruised by a good-looking, older man in a suit. Somewhat flattered, I still ignore him. As I’m exiting the store, the man is there waiting.
“Is there somewhere we can go?” he asks, eyeing me up and down.
In my brief naivety, I think he’s asking me out, but then it hits me. Uck! What a scumbag.
“I don’t think so,” I reply, walking away insulted. As I’m starting my car, he pulls up next to me. I notice him trying to get my attention, so I roll down my window.
“Can I help you?” I say, annoyed.
“What’re we gonna do about this?” he questions seductively.
“About what?”
“You got me all hot and horny,” he says, rubbing his unmentionable.
“It happens,” I say nonchalantly, rolling up my window and driving away.
Even as I write this, sitting alone at a table in Starbuck’s, I’ve caught the eye of a short, scrawny, haggard-looking guy. He could be in his late twenties, but because of his unkemptness, he looks more like he’s 40. I glanced at him, then quickly back at my notebook. Apparently, my look said more than just, “Take a shower.” He picks up his book and coffee from the table he’s sitting at and sets them on my table. I look up at him, raising one eyebrow. He pulls up a chair where there was none. As he sits, I continue to write, attempting not to make contact with him, hoping he’ll take the hint. He begins mumbling to himself, in what sounds like Arabic. I could barely hear nor understand him, so I simply keep my head down. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt. After what seems like thirty minutes of no dialogue between the two of us, he relocates.
It seems I wasn’t the only one striking out. My sister Robyn had gone on a date with a guy she had met in her office, where over a seemingly innocent dinner and cocktails he asked if she had a nurse or cheerleader costume, informing her that he is really into role-playing. Robyn didn’t say anything, just casually walked out of the restaurant. Jeez.
Are all men freaks or is it something I’m doing? Being a journalist, I’m social and talkative by nature. I have no problem starting a conversation with a stranger, whether it’s at a bar, coffee shop, in line at a store, etc… But just because I’m making jokes, catty comments and being a social butterfly doesn’t necessarily mean I’m flirting, a frequent misunderstanding. I’ve learned that regardless of my misinterpreted kindness, there’s no reason for some of the uncalled for behavior I’ve been subjected to. You don’t need to apologize or feel bad about your friendly (& maybe even overly friendly at times) behavior. The aforementioned people, for example, should be apologizing for their lack of tact.
And since I can’t trade teams, I guess I’ll just have to hope for a homerun & in the meantime, enjoy the balls. When it comes to the game of finding love, I still consider myself to be a rookie, still perplexed at how to score & find myself making an awful lot of foul plays.
Erik Fact: In case you’re not sure whether a certain behavior is acceptable or a no-no, it’s best to abstain from doing it. It’s better to be safe than single.
