I may be frisky and flirtatious, BUT I’M TAKEN!
I was reading tonight in the blog of, that’s right, a 30-year-old woman about how she met this other woman who let it be known that she was of the lesbian persuasion. No problem, except that the new girl repeatedly brought up the fact that she was not available, as in “I already have a girlfriend.” One of the comments on this blog (Blogger and Commenter — you know who you are) touched a nerve that I have had exposed for most of my life and that can be summed up as “Waaah! Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to hurt me or ‘get’ me in some way? Are you trying to one-up me or something? Am I such a rotten companion that you don’t even want me to make a try for you?”
To put it another way, it’s all about me.
Yes, I’m that sensitive about my own feelings, and that insensitive to yours. Hey, once you break down and admit you love me (you know you want to), that’s different. Then I am totally in touch with my gentle, poetic side. But in normal social situations, keep your boyfriends or girlfriends to yourself.
Examining this syndrome to a depth that I have never bothered to do before, I see that it is another example of my insecurity and lack of confidence. I mean, maybe I am talking to someone who is exuberant about her loving, committed relationship, and she is merely trying to share her joy with the world, including me. Why would I immediately have to get defensive about it?
The fact that I usually think the “I’m not available” remark, however it’s expressed, is a jab AT me also suggests that I view a LOT of women as potential — say it with me — sexual partners. Maybe I do. Maybe it’s more obvious than I thought it was. I no longer look directly at the breasts when addressing a woman, and I feel like I’m being a gentleman, and I quit that pubic-hair-on-the-coke-can routine right after the Clarence Thomas hearings. But, hey — boys will be boys, and they will be IN YOUR PANTS, girls, if they can. So that’s it: I feel busted, and guilty. As polite as I tried to be, I had filthy intentions, you saw through them and DERAILED MY TRAIN. Caught red-handed trying to follow God’s Plan. Oh, the shame. But I’m feeling better already, having confessed.
You know who I admire? The guys who see all women as potential sexual partners, win some and lose some, and don’t get too fucking mental about it, like I just did. I don’t understand women (You’ve never heard that before, eh?). They have a million ways of shooting you down. I should know by now that I don’t have to make up new ones of my own.
Note to the blogger who got me started on this track: Yowzah! You must be some hot mama! You even make the girls nervous.
25 Replies to “Bang Bang, She Shot Me Down”
You might want to re-read your post. It includes these Freudian gems:
>Kin[g] of Queenstv menmen kept innocuously dumbthe kind of men [we’ll] all be after the Great Operation…
Oh, that was just me, not realizing that Blogger was defaulting to “anonymous” instead of my name… d’oh! Couldn’t you tell it was me by how witty it was? 😛
You know what Freud said about the interpretation of dreams, that the dream itself tells us very little but how one sees it says a lot. I’m sure he’d say the same about Freudean slips. The suggest a lot more about the person who invents…er, spots…them, then the person who seems to have made them.
TS queen operation my ass!
Try googeling that!
I can’t believe you checked back and saw my snide remark. I thought I’d get away with it. And, no, I didn’t know what Freud said about interpretation of dreams. But now that you have told me, I will concede this round.
Still, this comment section is going downhill isn’t it?
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