Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Analysis of a Creeper

WHY do creepy old men come after attractive girls that happen to be standing alone at a given moment? Is it a game? Do they really think they have a chance? Honestly, am I patting myself on the back too much when I say “what makes you think you are worthy of talking to me?” Now I don’t say that, because I’m nice, courteous, and most of all curious about what this creepy man is going to say to me.

This happens to us ladies ALL of the time, Suzy and I have given these men (collectively) the name “Dwight” – because if your name is Dwight – you’re probably a creeper. Allow me to enlighten you with a recent incident of ridiculous proportions!

We are out at Danny’s opening for the showing of his piece (a painting – it’s not THAT kind of exhibition) in a juried exhibition at Planet Rooth Gallery on Ray street during the Ray at Night art walk. I had been by Danny’s side like a cleaning wrass on a swimming shark for over an hour when I decided to let him chat up some people without his female clinger.

I go to stand in front of his beautiful painting (which is pretty clearly from a photo of me) and IMMEDIATELY I am swooped upon! This wild frizz-haired Twisted Sister of an aging rocker suddenly touches my shoulder and asks about my phoenix tattoo. First of all – I REALLY f-ing hate it when people touch my tattoo because they think that somehow it is public property – that would be MY body – thanks! More on that later…

So I turn and say very nicely – “It is a phoenix, yes”. And he says “You know, the phoenix is a symbol of re-birth and rising from the ashes”. I really tried not to laugh directly in his face and say “OH! Wow, is that it? Thank you I definitely was not aware…” Given this guy was deserving of pity – his shirt looked like a Bon Jovi tee ripped off at the sleeves and spray-painted with silver tiger stripes! He must have been on some kind of drugs – like the really good kind ‘cause the wheels were spinning but the hamster was thinking he was a 20-year old Sean Penn.

Anyways, he proceeds to tell me he has three PhDs and that he is a literature professor. Of course I can pretty much keep up with all of his stories as I am well-versed in literature and poetry myself. He knew his stuff, but he didn’t seem to get that I wasn’t impressed – It was like this:

Dwight: “Did you know that the Doors named their band after a William Blake Poem? Do you know William Blake?”

Lisa: “Yes they got it from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell – which is actually an entire book...”

Then we moved on to Shakespeare:

Dwight: “Don’t you think Macbeth is very supernatural with the witches and the fates?”

Lisa: “Well the witches ARE the fates and it depends if you think religion should be considered supernatural.”

And so on – basically a lot of people try to impress me with their poetic knowledge but they really have no actual insight to share – they are just hitting on me. Given that this was a valiant effort, I was getting very bored and I remember thinking that he might just keel over at any point because he was really that old.

Anyways, I slipped in the boyfriend fact and found some kind of clever way to dash away without hurting his feelings and latched on to Danny more like a leech this time.

The Dwight had wasted nearly 20 minutes of his time trying to impress me, and he kept trying to find me again through the night despite the fact that I was clearly with my man – I had to wonder – why? I was very sassy in my Japanese corset with long jeans and high-heeled boots, and I just plain looked very nice that night – so why did he think that someone like me would be at such an event alone? It doesn’t make sense.

Does logic just completely evade the minds of these men whilst on the prowl? Was it the shrooms? Should I have said “Pardon me sir but it appears that you are trying to woo me via Shakespeare quotes, please allow me to explain: I assure you I am not interested in your motley appearance or your quotes of poems which I already know. If you think I am pretty you may be correct, but my boyfriend shares the same sentiments. This is his painting here which I am standing next to so I will draw the attention of art aficionados who may notice my resemblance to this lady on the wall. Now please excuse me but I am not up for grabs and I must be running along back to the love of my life whose fantastic painting skills have brought me here in the first place.”

“By the way Axl Rose called – he wants his blow-dryer back.”

5 comments:

  1. Oh man. I experienced a Dwight encounter on Monday night at the Chicken Pie Shop. The creepy old dude was (attempting) to flirt with my sister and I in front of HIS WIFE, grandkids and their parents! Ugh. Being friendly is one thing... being flirtatious is another. And with your entire family present? Yikes. The daughter-in-law was visibly disgusted. :(

    Also... sorry to bail on you at the Art Walk! I should've stuck around to help ward off the creeper. But hey, at least he was trying to impress you with classic literature and not his own dirty stories! :P

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  2. Oh love... We could write the book on Dwights. Each one has their own unique twist on the sport and we have pretty much mastered the art of counter-creeping.

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  3. Thanks for putting up with all the "Dwights" that so often frequent art openings to feast, or rather gum, on the wonderful, well cultured ladies of SD's art scene. Also, thanks for the shout-out.

    If your name is Dwight and you are not a creeper, I apologize for my lovely girlfriends frustration.

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  4. ^that was Danny by the way!! Thanks babe :)

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  5. Perhaps you all could give suggestions on how Dwight could have behaved (aside from bathing and not touching). I am not condoning his behavior, but perhaps he has a true interest in Phoenixes, Doors, Blake, the Bard, etc... but does not have the social skills necessary to deal with people.
    I find that when I am in a situation where I want to share my thoughts with others that sometimes I get the cold-treatment even though my intentions are only social. Usually I keep my thoughts to myself, especially if I get one of the snotty-your'e-a-creep looks, and move on.

    By the way, speaking of tattoos, now that they are prevalent in our society, and frankly sometimes in modest places, is it ok to look and comment within reason? I have had one on my bicep since the 70's and many times people (mostly kids) have asked to look at it. I feel fine pulling up my sleeve and talking about the faded picture and telling the story of how it came about ("what do you do with a drunken sailor..."), but I feel uncomfortable asking women to see theirs (yes I am discreet) unless they are on their face or lower arms. Are tattoos private? By having one are people asking to be noticed? When some of my kids have purple hair, I say, "Hey your hair is purple! Looks good. :)"

    .... glad you did not name creepers, todd....

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