Last week, after my friends flaked out on me and I got tired of feeling sorry for myself, I dragged myself out of my warm apartment and onto a crosstown bus. I read some outstanding Yelp reviews about this hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint and I was in dire need of a margarita. Or six. I was a party of one readily prepared to drink for two.
The hostess kinda wanted me to get my food to go, but I still plopped down at a fourtop. Besides the occasional social media post, I didn’t touch my phone once – I was too busy enjoying my night! The place had great vibes and even though I was alone, it felt awesome to be among people enjoying themselves.
Since the restaurant was filling up, she asked if I minded sharing my table. I didn’t. Two guys my age slid into the seats across from me, graciously apologizing for interrupting my solo dolo flow. One of the guys, Edward, just wouldn’t leave me alone. First he asked how my drink was. Then he wanted to know what I had ordered. Then he started asking me questions about where I go to school, what I liked to do for fun, where my boyfriend was…the whole works. It was sweet and I was flattered…but then I got annoyed. Didn’t Edward get the hint? It’s called a single girl date for a reason. Duh.
Edward eventually moved to another table – not until he professed his love for Black girls (“they’re good in bed!”) and gave me his number. Then he followed me out of the restaurant and down the block and to my bus stop. Talk. About. Persistent.
I know that last week I talked about ghosting and how it sucks to be on the receiving end of it. I hate to eat my words – but just like that, I kinda see why it’s necessary. Some guys just don’t get the hint. Like this guy Jeff from POF. I gave him my number after he gently begged – “Why not?” I thought. He was smart, educated, employed and attractive enough. After the typical first text convo (What are your favorite hangout spots? Hobbies? Why are you single?) started to lull, he’d wait like every 20 minutes to hit me up again with nonsense. It got really annoying after a while and we ended up dryly conversing for the entire day. And then he texted me again. And again. And again.
I’ve been on the other side of an unreciprocated situation. The guys that didn’t like me as much as I liked them made it pretty darn clear that they weren’t interested with their nonverbal actions. As much as it hurts, I see why they take that route.
I could’ve easily asked Edward to leave me and my burriito alone. I could’ve ended the conversation with a simple, “I’m tired. ‘Night!” with Jeff. So why didn’t I? It’s because I didn’t want to be the mean girl. I’ve dealt with mean guys and I wouldn’t want to wish that on anyone else.
CollegeCandy ladies and gents, can you guys help me perfect the art of turning someone down?
When she’s not watching for Blue Ivy sightings or doing some serious Facebook creeping, Khalea moonlights as a print journalism major at the REAL HU, Howard University. Follow her on Twitter at @letsbeKHAlear, or feel free to Twatch. Whatever works for you.
[Imaga Via. Yuri Arcurs / ShutterStock]