I'm not a stalker!
I never get spam email. That kind of bothers me, but I don’t know why. Everyone I know receives buckets of mortgage/porn/penis-enhancement offers, but I never get squat. What gives? My dick is too grand to need enhancement? I assure you, internet, that is not the case. I got a lot of shit going on downstairs. So where’s the offers? Help me out, here.
I always feel slighted when I’m excluded from really ignorant things. For example, my coworkers are always attending work-related focus groups to discuss their jobs, but I’m never invited to these things. Granted, the few times I have gone to them made me want to pull my own head off, but an invitation would be nice.
Also, spam comments. All the other bloggers complain about hordes of morons clogging the comments sections with abusive gibberish. My commenters are universally intelligent, kind and funny. What the fuck? Morons are too good to comment on my blog?
Anyway, last night I walked a friend of mine home. It probably wasn’t necessary, but her neighborhood isn’t the best, and man, if I didn’t walk her home because I was too lazy and something happened to her? I would spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that one. Plus I know it can be spooky for the ladies walking around at night. As I work downtown, and live close to downtown, I often walk through bad neighborhoods late at night. I very consciously try not to freak out any female pedestrians who are sharing the sidewalk with me (there’s a very funny short film called ‘Stalker Guilt Syndrome’ about this very phenomenon. Find it yourself). I try to keep my distance, and walk in a very casual, I’m-not-going-to-assault-you manner. I’m sure it just freaks people out worse.
So as I walk my friend into the lobby of her apartment building, another young lady walks past us and out of the building. I say goodbye to my friend and head out. As I leave, I notice this other girl walking ahead of me, and she gives me this suspicious look over her shoulder. I start thinking "Oh shit, I’m freaking this girl out; I should cross the street or something." But then I start thinking: "Hey! This girl just saw me walk another girl home. Shouldn’t that exclude me from potential-stalker status?" I think so. I still tried to be non-threatening, but I resented it. I mean seriously; as if I would see a girl safely home, then turn around and say, "Okay, let’s assault a stranger, now." I don’t fucking think so! So fuck you, strange girl, and fuck your paranoia. Fucking stalker guilt syndrome.
I always feel slighted when I’m excluded from really ignorant things. For example, my coworkers are always attending work-related focus groups to discuss their jobs, but I’m never invited to these things. Granted, the few times I have gone to them made me want to pull my own head off, but an invitation would be nice.
Also, spam comments. All the other bloggers complain about hordes of morons clogging the comments sections with abusive gibberish. My commenters are universally intelligent, kind and funny. What the fuck? Morons are too good to comment on my blog?
Anyway, last night I walked a friend of mine home. It probably wasn’t necessary, but her neighborhood isn’t the best, and man, if I didn’t walk her home because I was too lazy and something happened to her? I would spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that one. Plus I know it can be spooky for the ladies walking around at night. As I work downtown, and live close to downtown, I often walk through bad neighborhoods late at night. I very consciously try not to freak out any female pedestrians who are sharing the sidewalk with me (there’s a very funny short film called ‘Stalker Guilt Syndrome’ about this very phenomenon. Find it yourself). I try to keep my distance, and walk in a very casual, I’m-not-going-to-assault-you manner. I’m sure it just freaks people out worse.
So as I walk my friend into the lobby of her apartment building, another young lady walks past us and out of the building. I say goodbye to my friend and head out. As I leave, I notice this other girl walking ahead of me, and she gives me this suspicious look over her shoulder. I start thinking "Oh shit, I’m freaking this girl out; I should cross the street or something." But then I start thinking: "Hey! This girl just saw me walk another girl home. Shouldn’t that exclude me from potential-stalker status?" I think so. I still tried to be non-threatening, but I resented it. I mean seriously; as if I would see a girl safely home, then turn around and say, "Okay, let’s assault a stranger, now." I don’t fucking think so! So fuck you, strange girl, and fuck your paranoia. Fucking stalker guilt syndrome.
posted by Dash Bradley at 2:19 PM
3 Comments:
Did it occur to you, dumbass (I say this because I care), that she saw you walk your friend home, and thought you were sweet and gentlemanly? And she was looking over her shoulder thinking, "Ooh, and he's cute, too!" Or, "I wish that dashing Dash Bradley would walk with me. And put a protective arm around me. And make warm, passionate love to me all night." But no, YOU assume she thinks you're predator.
Actually, I assume most people think I'm a predator.
Regardless,I don't think women walking by themselves in bad neigborhoods at one in the morning are looking to get hit on by strange men. Maybe I'm wrong.
And while I am a dumbass, I'd like to think I'd recognize the difference between a suspicious look and a come-hither look. If not, then I have missed a LOT of opportunities. Shit!
Curse you, ubermilf; once again you have cast doubt on my perception of reality!
In my eagerness to point out that women might actually LIKE you rather than FEAR you, I neglected to comment on your more philosophical posit. Why do some people attract attention, welcome or not, while some people don't? Or, what makes a person connect to another person, while not another?
Sometimes, it's obvious. But why do I keep commenting on your blog? There are only two blogs to which I comment. Yours and B.A.'s. Now, B.A. is a friend of mine, so that's obvious. But I have other friends with blogs who don't inspire me to comment. And why do you inspire me? I do enjoy your writing. But I enjoy others' writing as well. I guess you're just special.
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