Creep in Action

[Note:  As I was scribbling this post out in a notebook, Roissy dropped this gem that rams home the “creepy” vibe]

For the most part, I’ve never actually seen in action something that most girls would immediately classify as “over-the-top creepy.”  From my experience of people-watching at the bars I frequent, I usually see the normal “weird” (as normal as weird is) behavior/actions of guys when they’re in the presence of girls they find attractive.  Go to any bar where there is a lot of people, and you’ll see at least one “weird” guy.  It’s pretty much as constant as the sun rising in the east.

Now, I myself have done things/behaved in a way that girls start getting the “weird” vibe (but nothing like the guy in Roissy’s post).  I know I’m not perfect but I can tell if I possibly am giving out “weird” vibes, and try to stop doing that.  People in general aren’t perfect either.  So if you come across someone who says he has never, ever given a girl the “this guy is weird” vibe, he’s a fucking liar.  Or he’s extremely oblivious to what he does, which is even worse.

On Saturday I observed an interaction next to me that set off the “creepy” vibe in a pair of 8’s.


Location:  Local Stripmall Bar, Dublin, OH

Time:  Saturday, 9 June 2012, around 22.00

The second period of Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Finals, which I was watching, had ended.  I had just returned from the bathroom and sat down at the place at the bar I saved with my glasses.  Putting them on, I got the attention of and then ordered another beer from the bartender.

The Celtics-Heat game also had recently ended, and the Heat fans were celebrating their advancement to the Finals.  People were coming and going from the bar.  I was seated with my back toward the door.  While I never try to intentionally have my back facing a door or the open street, it was either the stool I was currently on, or one next to a fat chick.  I chose the possible garrotte-able position.

Because I’m a little wary about sitting like this, I would casually glance back to see who was coming in when the door opened.  So far this night it was mostly guys (bros), older couples and a few girls that passed my muster.  There were not too many of the latter around yet.

The door opened and I glanced again over my left shoulder.  A blond and a brunette stepped in.  The both fiddled with their iPhones and stepped up to the gap at my left.  I appraised them both as mid-8’s.  They ordered their drinks, got them and were waiting for the bartender to finish closing them out.  I was figuring out a possible opener when a guy walked up to the pair, blocking them in.  He had a huge smile on his face.

I’ll set the scene.

The guy was wearing a sleeveless Heat jersey, black windpants, and had his head shaved.  The girls were wearing the standard clingy in the right spots, but loose in others dresses.  The girls were blocked from moving unless they went over the bar, or through some other guy (their left) or through me (their right).  This guy was executing a textbook case of “personal space invasion.”

What I heard next almost made me laugh.

Bro (Smiling, To Girls):  “Hey, are you here with anyone?”

I had to admit, the guy had balls to jump past the opening pleasantries to the meat of conversation, but this wasn’t the Apocalypse Opener.  The guy’s body language and that they were blocked in made alarm bells start to ring in the girls’ heads.  They both looked at the guy when he spoke and then began a brush-off.

Brunette (Looks away from Bro and down at iPhone, messes with it):  ….

Blonde (To Bro):  Umm, yeah…we’re meeting someone.

The blonde then turned to the brunette and began talking while waiting for their cards to come back.  The Bro shrugged and then ambled off down the bar to my left seemingly without a care at the brutal brush-off he got (too drunk possibly?).  The girls scribbled their names on the receipts and walked to a table off to my right.

I shook my head at the fact that the Bro probably made the girls less amenable to talking to new people that night.


I’m still shaking my head at this.  It’s one thing to talk to wary girls, but it’s another thing to scare them off right after saying “Hello.”  Just another thing to think about when I’m out and about.

So what’s the moral of this story?





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