Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Because I Am WRONG

Are men just genetically wired to be unable to read signals? (Alternatively, do I send out highly confusing/misleading signals?)

I'm supposed to have drinks Thursday night with a former colleague of mine. We worked for the same company - me in the Hong Kong office, him in the NYC office.

I'd met him once or twice during my business trips to NYC, but very briefly.

However, shortly after I moved to NYC, almost exactly two years ago, we went out for dinner. Dinner was fine. Drinks afterwards was also fine.

The evening was fine. Have I mentioned that it was fine? It was fine. But hardly inspirational in any way. It was the cab-ride where things took a turn for the worse. And for me to be a willing participant in being pulled into some guy's lap and mauled, I need to be inspired. That evening ended with me prematurely departing the taxi while it was still moving. I extricated myself, opened the door, and literally rolled out. Who knew that my ability to safely take a fall off of a racing horse would prove to be such a useful skill while living in NYC?

That said, he contacted me recently. Since I saw him last so long ago, I thought, "Eh. Why not? It's just a drink. I'll just make sure I don't sit in a cab with him." But our subsequent email exchange is enough to drive me to cancel on him. He seems obsessed with the idea of getting me in the back seat of a car. When his first email, in which he "jokingly" suggested that I dress as a slutty cop and sit in the back seat of a chauffeured car with him, was greeted with repressive silence, he tried again. Apparently he has now backed off the request that I wear a "strange outfit." But the evening he has proposed still includes an absurdly long car ride in a chauffeured car with a fully stocked bar.

My response? EWWW.

Don't get me wrong. I like cars. I like car rides, even long ones. I like concerts. I like drinking. I even like men, at least theoretically. And if he were someone who gave me the tingles, I'd show up fully clad in whatever slutty outfit would please him, complete with tall boots.

But as it is... I can only say "EWWW." Let me repeat that, in case I haven't clearly stated my feelings on the subject: "EWWW."

But anyway, I have to share the following IM conversation I had with my gay boyfriend, Gorgeous Hunk O' Man (JF), regarding the Grabby Cab Guy, when I still thought I'd meet him for a drink:

Me: If I could figure out how to smuggle in a webcam, I'd do that too

JF: LOL!!!!!

Me: I just hope he isn't thinking he's going to show me his penis

JF: omg
JF: there's a webcam moment for you
JF: you shrieking as he waves it around

Me: oh god. I hope it doesn't come to that.
Me: the penis needs to stay under wraps.
Me: but I think I'll be ok. unless he mails it to me
Me: just saw something on TV where body parts were mailed around
Me: would be an unpleasant package to receive

JF: very silence of the lambs
JF: you'd for sure be drunk when you open it
JF: and sort of stare at it for a while
JF: then just start shrieking with laughter

Me: and then stuff it and mount it over my bed?
Me: (after poking at it with one finger to make sure it doesn't move)

JF: see, this is why i love you
JF: because you are WRONG

'Cause I mean really. Do I want to lose my virginity in the back seat of a car (again)?


ergo said...

If you meet up with him when he's in a bad mood, we can call him: Crabby Grabby Cabby Guy.

Peter said...

I've always thought that the problem is that women are genetically programmed to send out highly confusing/misleading signals :-)