I hardly ever have the urge to throw a drink in someone's face, but recently, I came pretty close.
On a recent weeknight, in Central, I was manhandled by a drunken passer-by, and made it clear such advances were not welcome.
Rather than respecting my need for space, the oaf in question responded by looking me up and down, like he was assessing a hunk of meat, and then huffing off, as if rejection had been his to deliver.
Nice. Does no not mean no? Did someone at pick-up artist school teach you the dark "art" of attacking a person's self-esteem in order to make them "like" you, as outlined in The Game, that horrendous bible for men who consider women another notch on the bedpost?
Honestly, you're a troll. Not the type that lurks under bridges or behind a computer screen, but in bars waiting to prey on women. And if one rejects you, you'll unleash a barrage of insults.
Most of my girlfriends have at some point experienced a creep leaning in too close or touching them where they don't want to be touched.
As women, we're wary about our safety as we move through the world. Instead of telling you you're a creep, we normally hold it in, because we don't know if you're that psycho who's going to throw acid in our face, stalk us or rape us because we rejected you.
So, to all the other trolls out there, here's a tip: women like men who make them feel safe. Feeling threatened? We're not into that.