Thursday, May 19, 2011

Men Are Creeps

I hope you're not shocked. And if you're not, I hope you are taking this seriously. Last week, after one of those uncomfortable encounters in which you can't tell if you're being hit on or there's just a gaping cultural difference in how much eye contact and how many personal questions are acceptable (hard to gauge when in NZ the answer is little/few to none), a friend and I came to this conclusion, and in spite of having heard it for years in Friends and every movie starring Cameron Diaz, it was a revelation. Men are creeps! And the more I thought about it, the more I knew it! I recalled scenes in bars, watching my beer-sodden friends stumbling towards girls, watching and lurking. Both my grandfathers were infidels. Even my beloved Vincent, I believe, was once a creep; he may even have lurked around me (although I'm not sure it counts as lurking if it's welcome. Is it?). In fact, the only man I have never witnessed nor heard of nor can imagine being a creep is my father, and I'm not denying that that could simply be sparing myself... but I do know that at a family friend's 21st, he was the only man who stayed sitting down and talking when a stripper appeared.

I know why men might creep. It's not easy to walk up to someone and just start talking to them, especially if they haven't noticed you. But if they have noticed you, why not just do that? Is it supposed that women like the game and ambiguity (although there's nothing ambiguous about some leering drunk's hand on your arse)? Maybe some do. Maybe I did when I was eighteen, insecure, drunk as a skunk and unsure of whether the fluttering in my stomach was borne of love or a desire to throw up. But now, it's just annoying. When I knew I was really into Vincent, I told him, in those words, over a beer. And while I had some reason to believe he might feel the same way, I wasn't sure (this is the hair flick). Would it have been clearer if I'd pushed him onto a dancefloor and rubbed my bum against him in front of a bunch of people? Oh, I can't be bothered talking about this anymore and I know it's become a bit pointless, but what I want to say is Men Are Creeps, and it's unnecessary and gross and I wish they would just Cut It Out Already.

The End.

1 comment:

  1. Your father was quietly chuffed with this commendation