Unwanted Attention

In high school, I worked at a research laboratory. One day, perhaps almost at random, K.C. told me that gay men would find me attractive. He then said that I should take it as a compliment. I am unsure as to what K.C. was trying to tell me. Was he gay? Was A.T., his fiancee, just a beard? I lost touch with them after I left for college, and still don't know what he was trying to say.

***

A lot of men can't read social cues, or are stubborn. Witness the last time you've been in a bar, a guy keeps talking to some woman at the bar looking in the opposite direction, her body closed off, looking everywhere but at him. Yet, he still keeps talking because she accepted the drink he bought her. You wonder why he can't realize what's going wrong, if he figures that if he tries long enough, something good will happen.

I don't get hit on much. When it does happen, I usually don't even recognize it, because it's such a rare occasion. Even if I do recognize it, it's a welcome surprise. I want it to keep going, and I have almost never been the woman looking away, until today.

***

Fast forward to the grocery store. I was about to buy some groceries, when I noticed a plate of baked goods by the bakery entrance. Having never successfully shed my obsession with taking free food when offered (thank you college), I figured that I would grab a snack and go straight to the checkout. Very straightforward.

When I grabbed a piece, the store employee gave his spiel for me to buy more food. I stood there politely and nodded my head as he continued talking. He was an older gentleman, starved for attention based on the fact that he wouldn't stop talking, and wore a plain gold band on his right ring finger, beneath the latex glove (he was serving food, after all). Short cropped hair, thinning. Bit of a paunch. Perfectly average.

Now, if I had to remind you, I don't like talking to strangers. I still think that I do need to stretch my boundaries, so I have decided that if strangers engage me, I will try to engage them back. If nothing else, it makes for a mildly interesting story. Also, I'd just gotten a haircut, had gelled hair, and a few days worth of stubble. Why do I mention that? When I looked in the mirror, it made me look just young and scruffy enough to pass for a college aged student. The importance of this detail will come a little later.

For whatever reason, whether it's a vibe I give off, or the strangers that feel comfortable engaging me, a fair amount of people have no problem with telling me their life stories. He started talking about his next door neighbors, and then a strange exchange:

Store Baker: So, do you have any kids?
K.T.: No.
S.B.: Oh. So, how old are you?
K.T.: Twenty-nine.
S.B.: Really? I thought you were eighteen or nineteen.
K.T.: Thank you. (But I thought to myself, why in blue heaven would you ask if I had kids? The answer became obvious in hindsight.)
S.B.: You know, you are gorgeous.
K.T.: Oh, uh, thanks.
S.B.: Twenty-nine. Amazing.
K.T.: Yeah, I've always looked young.

Needless to say, my gay-dar was going off the charts. Only much later did I realize that he was trying to ascertain my sexual orientation by inquiring about the kids. He then said that the women must be falling all over me. I did not realize this was further him trying to figure out which team I batted for. He then asked if I had a girlfriend, and I hemmed and hawed for a second, because I am not good at lying once I am thrown off. Looking back, this probably encouraged him more than anything.

I made up a story and he was very excited, repeating that women would be crazy not to be my girlfriend. This started to make me want to back away, but I couldn't figure out a good way to run without being outright rude. I didn't grow up a pretty female. I've not been in that many situations where a guy was hitting on me and I didn't want to be hit on; as I recall, it's only happened two or three times in my life. I don't have that skill set, to make a graceful exit. Every time I mentioned the grocery basket, he kept talking, kept telling me about his life.

Turns out he bakes as a side job. Brownies and what not. Gave me his business card, kept talking about all the places where he delivered, then asked me where I lived. I told him the truth, and he mentioned how his route took him past there.

Anonymous ladies, on the rare few occasions that I have approached you and attempted to hit on you, and you were trying to make it obvious you did not want to talk to me, and I couldn't pick up on your cues, please let me apologize. I know it doesn't make it any better, but I now understand what you felt like, I respect you all as actual people, and thank you for trying to be polite and respectful and spare my feelings. I don't know how you do it.

You know how when you corner a wild animal, it bares its teeth? I started smiling, although I felt like it was the fake artifice resembling a smile, more just an awkward move which I had hoped would repel him. No, he said I had a wonderful smile, and lovely dimples. At this point, he leaned in and just told me straight out that he was gay. I told him there was nothing wrong with that. Of course, this stranger giving away baked goods just told me that he was gay. What was I supposed to do, drop the basket, curse at him, and run? No, at the time, I figured that he was lonely and looking for attention. I was correct, just not in the matter of degree.

Bolstered by my statement, he then told me that there was something about Asians and Hispanics he loved. Yes, their black hair. He then told me that from a distance, I looked Hispanic, but up close, he saw I was Asian.

Ladies, from now on, I'm just going to say outright "Hi, I'm [K.T.]. Would you like to go on a date and get to know each other better? No? Well, thank you for your time." And then I am going to walk away and not keep trying.

It kept getting worse. The more nervous I got, the more I bared my teeth, which only led him to make more comments about my smile. I could feel myself blush, so I mentioned that, unable to think of anything else to say. He took this as an extraordinarily good sign. I mentioned that I had to go for the fifteenth time or so, and he started mentioning that his contact information was on his card, and that I should come on over. Maybe I could help him with his computer (why did I mention that I worked with computers?). He also told me that he lived with his friend (which explained the ring). Did this mean they had an open relationship? I'm not sure I want to find out. He also talked about the brownies that he baked. At this point, I got a very weird, very strong To Catch a Predator vibe. He thought I was eighteen or nineteen, pretty close to seventeen, and was inviting me to his house to play with his computer and eat brownies.

I told him I'd do my best, and that I had to really go (which was true, because I'd been holding the basket so long my fingers went long. I didn't want to set it down because that would have really screwed me over). In an extremely stilted motion, he then leant over and placed his left hand on my shoulder, let it linger there a little longer than he should have. He also told me his work schedule, and when he was free. I just nodded and kept walking. One of the last things he mentioned was that I was going to tell everyone I was talking to a gay man today. The other was that he wasn't going to forget my name. (Yeah, I gave him my real name, instead of my go-to alias.)

This marks the second time someone has hit on me in that grocery store, and the second time I didn't realize it until later. Thankfully, the first time was a female. This also makes me a tease twice, and encourages me that I can attract the older homosexual baker demographic if need be. To both of you, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on or not pick up on the cues, I just haven't been in that situation that often. I am so sorry.

Not that I approve of the normal female response, but I definitely understand it much better. You're in a public forum, and a random stranger starts talking. You were raised to be polite, you don't want to cause a scene, so you stop and listen. You figure that it's just going to be a quick conversation, and it will pass quickly. Then it starts getting really awkward, someone you have no interest in is viewing you almost as a piece of meat instead of an actual human. They want to do things to you, you know what they want to do to you, but you don't have a say in turning them away. At the same time, it's unwanted attention, but they're not trying to be jackasses, and it's flattering in a weird way. So you try to be nice, try to extricate yourself, drop subtle hints so as not to hurt them, and they misinterpret that as interest. You try stronger and stronger hints, and it's not taking, until finally you just have to be clear and walk away. So be it if they get hurt, you didn't ask to talk to them. I will definitely keep this in mind the next time I talk to a stranger, male or female (these days, apparently you can't tell who's interested in you).

So, let's recap today's events: Woke up, did laundry, cleaned apartment, got lunch, got haircut, got hit on by old man, went for run, cleaned apartment further, edited novel. Which one of these is not like the others?

I really liked that store. I may now have to find a new go-to store.