One of the things I’ve been trying to do lately is put myself out there more dude-wise. As in, I am trying to go out and talk to dudes, which might lead to dating. It is…not always super fun, but can lead to fun stories. This story is less “fun” and “awful” and “not the worst thing that could have happened, but seriously this is the shit we deal with on the regular.”
So, two weeks removed from this story, I feel OK telling it. While at one of the post parties for NYCC, a pair of men began engaging in conversation with Kristi and I. Since we had the attention of the bartender already, they asked if we could please order for them, and they’d cover our already ordered beers.
This seemed a fair trade, so we said sure, and started chatting. One of said men sort of managed to isolate me. Not completely, Kristi was still right next to me, but we had our backs to one another. This will come into play later because it became WAYYYY harder to signal to her.
About, let’s say 5 minutes, into our interaction, this man stated (I want it clear that it was a STATEMENT, not a question) that we were going to go back to his hotel room. I laughed and shook my head, assuring him that it would not be happening, as one night stands and casual sex are not my thing. He asked why, I shrugged saying just not my scene. Seriously I gave him every chance to get out of this situation without being a creep. Cue ten minutes of crap about how a one night stand doesn’t have to “casual,” because of intense feelings or something. Once again, I said I wasn’t interested.
I managed to open up the stance so that i was now talking to both him and his friend and Kristi. This conversation went way better, was more Comic Con and fandom focused. The only thing that tarred it was that the guy kept trying to touch me and I kept stepping away. Eventually, I suggested checking out one of the other spaces (this was a big midtown club, with multiple bar areas). Kristi, bless her, took the hint, took my hand and we sprinted upstairs. Unfortunately, the guys followed us, but Kristi was now clued in to the grossness. The nice one (as we called him) had to excuse himself to get on a train back to Jersey (his kid had a football game the next morning that he wanted to get back to, the sketchy dude then mocked him for this, seriously.) and as such we all walked back downstairs.
I had resigned myself to this being my night, dodging this guy who wouldn’t stop touching me and pressuring me to go home with him, and I was really REALLY bummed out about it, because aside from GROSS, post comic con parties are among my favorite things about going to comic cons. When we got downstairs, I announced that I needed to pee, and we ran to the bathroom. We then went to yet a third bar area, where we were for the rest of the night. Finally, an hour after he’d propositioned me and I’d said I wasn’t interested, I’d managed to shake the guy.
Once there, we really enjoyed ourselves. Oh, AND we wound up dancing with two guys for most of the night, one of whom, when Kristi said she was married, respectfully backed off, saying he’d had fun dancing with her, but had come out looking to meet girls, so he was going to move on. Understandable.
So, the moral of this story? Be like the cool dudes we danced with, not like the sketchy one who bought me a beer. Also, everything, even getting hit on by a dude you’ve repeatedly said no to, is better when you’ve got a friend who’s just going to drag to the dance floor eventually anyway.