Confession at Arms Length
I made things awkward at a bar this weekend. It's really just a matter of time when you take me outside, but this one was all my fault because I don't go along to get along. Never have, never will, couldn't even if I cared about what anyone thought about me.
Confession: I don't like to be touched by strangers.
That's right! I said it! Even though literally all of you went, "no one does!" you wished you immediately could take it back because everywhere you go, there's always some rando that's like let me put my hand on your shoulder, let me reach down and feel your awesome velvet boots, let me get right up in there and whisper in your ear. The world is full of creepy people who don't even know they're being creepy!
Well, I'm here to tell you, strangers of the world, to knock it off.
There are social norms that include not standing immediately behind me in line so that I can feel your breath on my neck. I've turned into that person who stands at a 90 degree angle so my sharp points will prevent whoever's in line behind me from getting too cozy.
Don't get me wrong: I love a hug. I really do. From my friends or even a stranger if we were to share some kind of moment like there was a sale on Docs. Physical contact between my friends is appreciated, but even that needs to be in small doses. Both what I dish out and what I'm willing to sit through. Someone can play with my hair or do my makeup all day and I love a massage, but there's no need to run your hand across my back every time you walk by me.
Let's circle back to the bar: My friend and I are singing "Killing Me Softly" at Karaoke not just because, although we would, and two of the drunkest guys in Phoenix stumble across the room to help us out and drunk guy #1 puts his arm around me. Nu-uh. So I step forward and finish the song standing 2 feet in front of him. When it's over, I sprint back to the DJ to give him our mikes and pray they've wandered away before I get back because I have a history of making men cry using only my words. But no luck and drunk guy #1 goes to give me a high five.
Truthfully, I will respond to a high five if you initiate it. I can't think of the last time I initiated a high five, but if you throw it up I won't leave you hanging. Probably.
Drunk guy #2 though. This guy goes in for a hug. Whenever someone I don't know/can't stand goes in for a hug, my body just immediately rejects it. The entire notion of it. So he's assumed the position expecting me to just fall in, and I say, "no thanks." To which he replies, "are you kidding me?" To which I begin to have visions of me ending up in jail and have to remind myself he's crazy, stupid drunk and won't remember any of the lessons I'm about to lay down. So I say nothing, because maturity, and turn around and go back to my friends.
Who are all laughing hysterically because they know me.
So it's Tuesday again! Am I the only one who's go to look is "unapproachable?" Tell me everything.
Confession: I don't like to be touched by strangers.
That's right! I said it! Even though literally all of you went, "no one does!" you wished you immediately could take it back because everywhere you go, there's always some rando that's like let me put my hand on your shoulder, let me reach down and feel your awesome velvet boots, let me get right up in there and whisper in your ear. The world is full of creepy people who don't even know they're being creepy!
Well, I'm here to tell you, strangers of the world, to knock it off.
There are social norms that include not standing immediately behind me in line so that I can feel your breath on my neck. I've turned into that person who stands at a 90 degree angle so my sharp points will prevent whoever's in line behind me from getting too cozy.
Don't get me wrong: I love a hug. I really do. From my friends or even a stranger if we were to share some kind of moment like there was a sale on Docs. Physical contact between my friends is appreciated, but even that needs to be in small doses. Both what I dish out and what I'm willing to sit through. Someone can play with my hair or do my makeup all day and I love a massage, but there's no need to run your hand across my back every time you walk by me.
Let's circle back to the bar: My friend and I are singing "Killing Me Softly" at Karaoke not just because, although we would, and two of the drunkest guys in Phoenix stumble across the room to help us out and drunk guy #1 puts his arm around me. Nu-uh. So I step forward and finish the song standing 2 feet in front of him. When it's over, I sprint back to the DJ to give him our mikes and pray they've wandered away before I get back because I have a history of making men cry using only my words. But no luck and drunk guy #1 goes to give me a high five.
Truthfully, I will respond to a high five if you initiate it. I can't think of the last time I initiated a high five, but if you throw it up I won't leave you hanging. Probably.
Drunk guy #2 though. This guy goes in for a hug. Whenever someone I don't know/can't stand goes in for a hug, my body just immediately rejects it. The entire notion of it. So he's assumed the position expecting me to just fall in, and I say, "no thanks." To which he replies, "are you kidding me?" To which I begin to have visions of me ending up in jail and have to remind myself he's crazy, stupid drunk and won't remember any of the lessons I'm about to lay down. So I say nothing, because maturity, and turn around and go back to my friends.
Who are all laughing hysterically because they know me.
So it's Tuesday again! Am I the only one who's go to look is "unapproachable?" Tell me everything.
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