Micra
Not A Dude
I was on my way to the dojo this evening (I had to teach karate class), on my bike, in the dark, when suddenly a (white, slender, blond, about 30- year-old) guy appeared next to me (also on bike) and started to talk to me. Here's what transpired (paraphrased):
Him: Hey, you know a sports centre around here?
Me: Yeah, straight ahead, it'll appear to your right.
Him: *something about the kind of gym it is*
Me: Well, I don't know what sort of gym you're looking for..
Him: how big is it?
Me (pointing at a block of houses we pass): About the size of that block.
Him: How many square meters? How many machines? How many weights? how many dumbells?
Me: (OK, wackjob. Careful, stay calm.) No idea, I never go there.
Him: Why not?
Me: I do a different kind of sport.
Him: they have all kinds of sports there. What do you do? *starts summing up all kinds of non-existant sports along the lines of "underwater hockey" *
Me: ...
Him: Aww, c'mon tell me, whaddaya do?
Me (hoping to scare him off): Karate.
Him: *makes stupid cliche Bruce Lee-ish martial arts noises* Like that? They do that there too.
Me: Not the style I do.
Him: They do every style there. What style do you do?
Me: shuri-ryu
Him:They do that there too.
Me: Doubt it.
Him: So what's different?
Me: little things.
Him: *makes karate sounds again* Like that? Is that different?
Me:...
Him: So where do you hit someone to knock them out?
Me: (I'm not sure I wanna give you that info...) ...not the groin at least. Eyes, throat, knees.
Him: Throat, yeah.. but it hurts to get kicked in the groin, right?
Me: I should think so.
(We pass the gym)
Him: wanna go to the gym with me?
Me: (creep)... Can't. People are waiting for me. Hafta teach class.
Him: Teach class? Will you teach me?
me:If you wanna come over and take a class, you're welcome.
Him: So how old are you? Thirty?
Me: Thanks a lot. No, a bit younger than that.
Him: 28.
Me: no, 26 (WTF am I telling him this for??)
Him: Oh, then you're too young for me. Now I'm not interested in you anymore. Does that make you feel bad?
Me: ... (go away already)
Him: what's your perfect guy like? Do I look like your perfect guy?
Am I your perfect guy?
me:...
Him: well, do I?
Me: ...not really.
Him: Why? I'm ugly. You think I'm ugly?
Me: No...
Him: Then why?
Me (trying to drop a hint): Well, for one thing, my perfect guy would know when to leave me alone.
Him: Well I'm going to. I'll be turning left in a bit. So how long have you been single?
Me:... long (not that it's any of your business)
Him: If I'd come to talk to you, would you go out with me? Don't you mind being single so long?
Me:... (now I'm getting worried. At least nothing much can happen as long as we're both on our bikes)
Him: But don't you miss being with a man? Don't you miss the sex?
Me: (OK, if he goes any further I'm gonna tell him to leave me alone for once and for all. He appears harmless enough, but this is creepy...) Nah...
Him: No? Why not? It's nice with a man, right? *suddenly turns left to cross the street* Gotta go now, I'll call ya!"
Me: Whatever. Creep. I just hope he won't try it on other girls.
Now either that guy had a bit of a mental impairment or he was plain sad. Either way, I really wish that for once in my life a NORMAL, NICE guy would come up to me to talk, but it's always immigrants trying to get a girl so they can get a green card ("Hey, you're pretty. Got a boyfriend? Wanna marry me?" ) , or just plain creeps. I was grateful for my karate blackbelt tonight.
Him: Hey, you know a sports centre around here?
Me: Yeah, straight ahead, it'll appear to your right.
Him: *something about the kind of gym it is*
Me: Well, I don't know what sort of gym you're looking for..
Him: how big is it?
Me (pointing at a block of houses we pass): About the size of that block.
Him: How many square meters? How many machines? How many weights? how many dumbells?
Me: (OK, wackjob. Careful, stay calm.) No idea, I never go there.
Him: Why not?
Me: I do a different kind of sport.
Him: they have all kinds of sports there. What do you do? *starts summing up all kinds of non-existant sports along the lines of "underwater hockey" *
Me: ...
Him: Aww, c'mon tell me, whaddaya do?
Me (hoping to scare him off): Karate.
Him: *makes stupid cliche Bruce Lee-ish martial arts noises* Like that? They do that there too.
Me: Not the style I do.
Him: They do every style there. What style do you do?
Me: shuri-ryu
Him:They do that there too.
Me: Doubt it.
Him: So what's different?
Me: little things.
Him: *makes karate sounds again* Like that? Is that different?
Me:...
Him: So where do you hit someone to knock them out?
Me: (I'm not sure I wanna give you that info...) ...not the groin at least. Eyes, throat, knees.
Him: Throat, yeah.. but it hurts to get kicked in the groin, right?
Me: I should think so.
(We pass the gym)
Him: wanna go to the gym with me?
Me: (creep)... Can't. People are waiting for me. Hafta teach class.
Him: Teach class? Will you teach me?
me:If you wanna come over and take a class, you're welcome.
Him: So how old are you? Thirty?
Me: Thanks a lot. No, a bit younger than that.
Him: 28.
Me: no, 26 (WTF am I telling him this for??)
Him: Oh, then you're too young for me. Now I'm not interested in you anymore. Does that make you feel bad?
Me: ... (go away already)
Him: what's your perfect guy like? Do I look like your perfect guy?
Am I your perfect guy?
me:...
Him: well, do I?
Me: ...not really.
Him: Why? I'm ugly. You think I'm ugly?
Me: No...
Him: Then why?
Me (trying to drop a hint): Well, for one thing, my perfect guy would know when to leave me alone.
Him: Well I'm going to. I'll be turning left in a bit. So how long have you been single?
Me:... long (not that it's any of your business)
Him: If I'd come to talk to you, would you go out with me? Don't you mind being single so long?
Me:... (now I'm getting worried. At least nothing much can happen as long as we're both on our bikes)
Him: But don't you miss being with a man? Don't you miss the sex?
Me: (OK, if he goes any further I'm gonna tell him to leave me alone for once and for all. He appears harmless enough, but this is creepy...) Nah...
Him: No? Why not? It's nice with a man, right? *suddenly turns left to cross the street* Gotta go now, I'll call ya!"
Me: Whatever. Creep. I just hope he won't try it on other girls.
Now either that guy had a bit of a mental impairment or he was plain sad. Either way, I really wish that for once in my life a NORMAL, NICE guy would come up to me to talk, but it's always immigrants trying to get a girl so they can get a green card ("Hey, you're pretty. Got a boyfriend? Wanna marry me?" ) , or just plain creeps. I was grateful for my karate blackbelt tonight.