To the man at the bus stop,
I guess I don’t know how to say, “please leave me alone” in a way that you will understand. Please stop talking to me.
“If it weren’t sacred – your relationship – would you go to dinner with me?”
No. I will not go to dinner with you. It’s not because my relationship is sacred – and it is – but that doesn’t prevent me from going to dinner with people. What prevents me from going to dinner with you is that I’m not interested.
“Not interested? How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”
Well, sir, I guess I’m not that interested in getting to know you. Because you opened this conversation by asking me how pretty I think I am. And then, while looking my body up and down, you told me how much you thought I was worth. A dollar amount. As if I could be bought. As if I would be more willing to go to dinner knowing you think I’m worth more than a car. Thanks, but no thanks.
“Would you rather go to dinner with me or do drugs? Would you rather kiss me or take a drag off a cigarette? Your boyfriend doesn’t love you, you know.”
Neither. None of those. Because your options are not real options. Because that is not the reality of the situation. Because you don’t decide what my options are. And because when you got up in my face like that and started yelling, I almost hit you and yelled back, but you aren’t even worth that. You aren’t even worth eye contact.
When you left, I felt sick with relief. But I still feel sick – with disgust – because you exist out there and you talk to women like they’re sh*t. So f*ck you, you delusional f*ck.
– The kind of girl you’ll never have
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