One cold night last winter, I found myself at a show in a church in Greenpoint. Icy wind was blowing through the seams in the old walls. I was wearing a hat, scarf, and gloves as I sat in the pew pulling my coat tightly around me.

I had this burning feeling in the back of my neck…that telltale sensation of someone watching me. I pretended to rummage through my bag for gum while covertly looking behind me. The culprit was seated almost directly behind me; he wore a big fur hat. Despite my attempts at being cool, he knew I was looking at him.

He started directly into my eyes. His glance clearly said that my coat and scarf had vanished. Stockings, dress, and undergarments…long gone. Perhaps I was still wearing my gloves, hat, and boots…these were unimportant details. I turned away fast, stuffing two pieces of gum in my mouth.

I could feel his eyes for the rest of the show. Afterwards, I ran off to meet Marie in the other room. “This guy was undressing me with his eyes in there!” I described him: tall, big head, blue eyes, fur hat. She laughed. “Oh, that’s _____. He’s a total womanizer!”

This forced me to find him, pretend to be flirty with him, and then, start being really sarcastic and mean.

You see, this is the thing: I really hate guys who think they can have any girl they want. Or more precisely, I hate when they come across that way. Like, I’m all for confidence, but I am definitely turned off by arrogance. If you’re a real player, you will manipulate me into thinking you are a tiny bit insecure. But guys acting as if taking off my panties with their teeth is an inevitable action, a for sure, sure thing…blah. That just challenges me to NOT sleep with them, out of contrariness. Suddenly I’m putting on an extra pair of underwear and the most complicated layers of shirts…added obstacles just in case my resolve wanes.

But…the real dealbreaker, the coldest figurative shower…nervous, insecure fellows. Oh, all of my friends have experienced this individual on occasion. This is the guy who is practically shaking IF–and this is a big IF– he musters the courage to touch your leg. Forget about kissing or–GOD FORBID–sex. And if you’re the sort of lady who doesn’t mind taking the initiative on occasion–and of course you are–get ready for the weirdest, most awkward sexual encounter ever. There’s a chance he might say “I’m sorry” to you afterwards. Um. Thanks. If you’re like me, you’ll never want to sleep with this person again. In fact, it might make you apprehensive about sleeping with ANYONE ever again (but fret not…you’ve just got to get back on–another–horse and ride again). But maybe you are a true optimist; you really believe that this guy will gain some confidence after a few rolls on the hay. Well, he might stop peeing himself every time you kiss his neck, but I can virtually guarantee that he will never, ever initiate any sexual contact…even if you are with him for years.

Of course, this is unfortunate….because for me, it’s all about the throwdown. If some guy can’t just pick me up and carrying me off to his bedroom, I’m pretty bored. (Obviously I’m not referring to anything remotely resembling date rape). I like the idea of being seduced. I’ve had that boyfriend that never, ever started anything with me. At first, it was fun to always dictate the when, where, and how. But after a while, I started to feel bored. Weirdly insecure. Confused.

So I guess this proves only one thing: I only really want to sleep with like, 15% of the population: these are the individuals who are intuitive enough to realize that I am interested in them…because they are picking up on my own signals, not because they just assume that every lady wants a piece of them.
But then, when I subtract stupid boys, lazy boys, uncute boys, mean boys, weird smelling boys, crybabies, those who want to try to control me….suddenly that leaves less than 1 percent of the population.

In the end, I suppose it’s good that I’m really into plenty of solitude.


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