I’ve wanted to write about this for so long and last night sparked something in me that I simply cannot hold back.
So tonight, I begin my open letter to all the drunken boys lurking in the corners of all college bars holding a Miller Light and a cigarette they won't ever smoke. This one is for the 55-year-old wannabe sugar daddies who buy tables in hopes that a group of girls will be down to talk about their “interesting” lives. This, my dear friends, is for the boys who DON'T KNOW WHEN TO STOP. Listen up.
First I would like to say that I am not against having guys approach girls when they’re out. By all means you guys, we got all dressed up, put on some bomb ass makeup and our highlighter is on fleek…please come up to us and remind us of how cute we are.
I am super down for a cute papi to come up to me and ask if he can buy me a skinny girl martini, however, there is a certain line that many boys insist on crossing.
I am going to outline how a typical night goes when a group of girls is spotted by drunk and wild homo sapiens of the male variety.
1. The initial across the room look
Some girls have developed the skill of being able to sense this look before it’s too late, however, the unlucky ones accidentally make eye contact.
This first look encourages the next move, which is approaching.
2. “Oh God, he’s coming over here”
The phrase that sends panic throughout the group.
The girls are forced to make a game plan of how they will turn down this sweaty excuse for a man.
What happens next is usually sad.
3. The Approach
The young and desperate little boy is at first very hopeful.
I assume his thought process goes something like this:
“Surely in this group of six beautiful women there will be one who is open to ignoring how drunk and sweaty I am in this moment. For sure, one of these little ladies will want to tell me what their major is and whether or not they are voting for Donald Trump. They are LUCKY to stand here talking to me for 15 minutes even though they look like they are having enough fun without my presence. LET'S GO.”
Many times when a guy approaches he does so with grace and elegance and comes out victorious. This is because he knows when he is wanted and for how long he may linger. The young and desperate boys…they do not.
Here is a quick crash course on how to know when a girl really does not want you to be around.
- When you ask your first question, if she looks at her friends, laughs and then answers...she doesn't want you.
- When you ask your second question, if she looks like she’s pissed off that you’re there…she doesn't want you.
- When you ask your third question, and she’s fidgeting or looking around desperately looking for an escape route…SHE DOESN'T WANT YOU.
- Now is when you get the message and leave.
Basically what I’m saying here is use your common sense and be courteous. There will be times when after your first question the girl you are talking to will want you to continue and trust me, she will make that very clear.
While it is flattering to be approached by someone, a lot of times it just gets annoying when someone insists on taking 30 minutes of your time and not knowing when to stop.
I will never forget an instance when my cousin was being harassed at a college bar (and I use the word harassed because that's what it was).
After telling a guy that she had a boyfriend five times (yes I counted) the guy continued to touch her, suggesting that she break up with her boyfriend and just honestly kept getting too close! At a certain point I got so annoyed that I simply looked at him and said: “You are making her uncomfortable.” The guy looked like I had just slapped him with all my strength, but to be honest it needed to be done. Without another word, he got up and left.
So to end this letter, I urge you boys to just stop crossing the line. Just because we are at a bar, drinking and having fun does not give you permission to hijack our time. And girls, if a guy is making you uncomfortable, say something. We shouldn't have to feel rude for pointing out someone else’s obnoxiousness.
Feel out the situation my dudes — and for God's sake, leave us the hell alone.
