This past Friday I had quite an awkward situation occur where a series of compliments were used to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately for me, the compliments came from a man. Let me tell you a story…
It was a sunny Friday morning. I had just gotten off the train. It was casual dress day in the office so I was excited to be in jeans, black air forces, black polo, pitch black shades, and a black fitted. I even had my black work out bag over my shoulder. My day was off to a pretty black (in a good way) start. I got a few steps out of the subway and a presumably African dude in a suit said good morning as he passed by. I reciprocated by nodding and saying good morning then I returned my focus to my blackberry per my usual routine. It was business as usual in Boston…or so I thought.
The African man slowed down his walking pace a bit. It became evident that he was parsing for the right words to break the ice since his “good morning” didn’t get more than a nod and a mumble. At this point, he was almost walking in stride with me. I kept focusing on my blackberry in hopes that he’d go away and understand that I’m not a morning person. That wouldn’t be the case and he would not be deterred. A few seconds went by and then came the following:
“So, do you work out a lot? You look like you work out.”
Part of me was happy to have my continuously developing physique acknowledged after busting my arse for a couple months in the gym. Another part of me was concerned about where the conversation was going (Neither of the parts of me that I’m referring to are my p*nis. Just wanted to give an FYI). Had a women uttered these words to me at 8am, I would have assumed she was feelin the kid or she was going to ask for some d*ck fitness tips. Both of which would have boosted my ego. But since this was a man, I had to think other things. The obvious thought was that he practiced parfaitiety, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt…not that there’s anything wrong with openly practicing parfaitiety.
Maybe the guy was a salesman. He could have been prepping to sell me Cutco knives, steroids nutritional supplements, prepaid legal services, online shopping portals, or access to another business opportunity that turns out to be nothing more than a pyramid scheme. Maybe he was an active member of some church that was looking to recruit new members. Maybe he was in a fraternity and figured I was in one too. Maybe he had just moved to Boston and was looking for new friends. Maybe he wanted to know what gym I was a part of because he had been searching for a while.
“Yeah man. You look like you really work out a lot. Are you a personal trainer?”
Yes! He’s just into fitness! At least that’s what I thought. I responded at this point about how I was pursuing a PT certification and that my gym was down the street. My excitement quickly turned to concern again as he went on with a series of questions including where I was from, where I lived, my age, where I worked, and where I hung out. I tried to respond cordially and in vague fashion, but he kept going walking right along side of me. It turns out the dude works in the building right next to mine so there was really no way to escape. We get to the top of the hill just at the point where I can at least cross the street in a different spot and he then confirms what I expected…
“Hey man. I should get your number. Let me give you my card and my cell. Maybe we can hang out at some point”
This parfait arse dude prolly has a wife and kids. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and he ends up ruining any chance of that by asking for my number after an awkward 5-10 minute conversation. I wanted to punch him in his face. I wished I had said sumthin’ initially to tip him off that I liked women only and was hitting the gym reckless because I was going on a trip with the booski to a tropical island with plenty of opportunities for new facebook pictures. For him, that prolly wouldn’t have even mattered. He was quite the persistent fellow and now I know what women feel like when lame dudes hit on them. The ish is painful. I hope I never see this fellow again, even though I will now prolly bump into him….eh bad choice of words…I will see him on the streets every day. **sigh**
I have a few questions for today. Am I wrong in concluding that he was gay? How would other heterosexual folks handle it if someone of the same sex was indirectly hitting on them? And lastly, How do folks deal with ice breakers from people they don’t want to talk to?
There’s a reason I expect the worst from people,