Friday, July 30, 2010

Singlehood flashback in real-time

Some bespeckled stranger ran up to me as I was walking through Chinatown and wouldn't leave me alone for two city blocks.

Damn, I know I'm cute, but buddy, back-off once I've explained to you that I have a boyfriend.

He first asked me whether I was from Hong Kong. Negative. Then he proceeded to ask me if I was a fan of Cantopop singer Leon, who was also born in Beijing.

At this point, I'm thinking, Dude is really trying to make conversation if he's bringing up a middle-aged entertainer.

My sparse responses didn't hinder his persistence though. He asked me if I was a communist, religious, cultist, hated America, hated China, believed in political propaganda.

He crossed the intersection with me. That's when I shouted, "What exactly are you interested in?"

"Conversation," he smirked.

I told him I wasn't comfortable discussing my private thoughts with him as I don't even know him. Then I proceeded to say, loud enough for bystanders to hear, that I didn't want him following me to my car.

He had the balls to reply, "What's the worst I could do?"

"Jump in it."

He finally gave up talking to me but goddamn it, this asshole wouldn't quit. These creeps remind me exactly why I got the hell out of Montreal, which was full of circus fucks like him.

I told Paul about it. He said I was being too nice and perhaps wasn't clear enough. I don't think men realize how hard it is to wriggle free from people who try to strong arm you into giving out your number. What do you do when "no" means "keep trying"?

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