Bad Behavior

Dear Butch,

I am not sure what made you think that your words were appropriate or why you continued to border line harass me after I expressed disinterest in your advances.  And within moments of leaving your presence, I thought of everything I should of said.  I really fucking hate when that happens.  Since I can not go back in time, I will express those sentiments here.

Let me back the train up.

I was at the gas station last week.  I pulled up to the pump and exited my vehicle.  Very normal thing to do.  I was still wearing my work clothes: simple pair of black wedges, fitted dark grey pants, a floral purple print cami, and a black cardigan.  Nothing amazing, in fact I am pretty sure my hair was messily put in a knot on top of my head and my makeup was quickly fading.  Overall, I was decent looking but not fantastic.  I had noticed that you were parked in small lot near the pumps.  It wasn’t actually you I noticed first, but your gorgeous off-white restored late 1970’s car.  I had barely made it from my drivers door to the gas pump before you started shouting across to me.

“Baby, I would tear your ass up!  Damn girl!  You are so fucking sexy.  Can I get your number?  Are you married or have someone, and can I break it up?”

I was trying to ignore your comments, but the more I turned away and pretended you were talking to the 80 year old woman next to me the more you shouted.  So I turned to you, smiled, and said “Thank you for the flattery, but I am very much taken.”

And that is when you crossed the line, almost literally.  You walked across the lot, approaching me, telling me that I need a good woman in your life because I seemed “stressed”.  This is where I now know what I should of said.  What I actually did say that I was sorry I seemed stressed and I apologized for not accepting your advances.  What I should have said was “The only thing stressing me out right now is your inability to back the fuck off.  Whether I am with someone or not, that is not how you speak to another human, lady or otherwise.  Please take you and your ass tearing desires back across the parking lot.”

I would never classify your words, actions, or behavior as “flirting”, but I know that is exactly what you think you were doing with me.  No, you were harassing me at a gas station, not flirting.  Really fucking classy.  You were rejected and then pushed harder.  You saw I was ignoring your verbal advances and then became physically uncomfortable as you moved closer to me.  And then, as I was apologizing and getting back in my vehicle you called me a “fucking cunt” for closing my door in your face without giving you my number.  What the fuck?!?

Get a fucking clue.

Love,

Femme

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