Despite
today being a holiday of atonement, repentance, and forgiveness, I have for
some reason decided to make it a day of eating everything in the world ever and
angrily remembering old grudges.
I’m usually
able to muster some combination of forgive and forget when it comes to people
who have wronged me, but it is nearly impossible for me to do this for certain
men.
1.
Creepy
ones
2.
Ones who sleep
with me and then disrespect me
Exhibit A: A creepy man I was forced to work with over the summer
How anyone
let this man earn a medical degree is beyond me. I naively thought the numerous
times he would take me out to lunch were just acts of kindness and friendship,
a sort of peer-to-peer courtesy. I was wrong. He found it appropriate for a
37-year-old, paunchy, awkward, overly-handsy virgin to not only pursue his 23
and 26-year-old coworkers, but also to act childishly upset when rebuffed. Constant
“Haha, you’re of drinking age, right??” and “You’re too serious. I’m sure
you’re wild outside of work!” jokes didn’t help to dissuade the general aura of
creepiness. I was forced to face the horrible truth when he began jealously
asking, “You think he’s cute, huh?” about every male in the vicinity and
refusing to speak to me (even if I addressed him first) after news of me dating
a grad student circulated the lab. I wish I were exaggerating. I will close
with this lovely story: when my 26-year-old female coworker was driving us to
lunch, he actually put his hand on her thigh and said, “Just listen to
everything I say, and you will get into med school.” Flashbacks of his advances still give me dry heaves.
Exhibit B: A summer hookup
My naiveté
got the best of me yet again. Shy glances, park swing sessions, vigorous massages,
and cutesy face nuzzling all mean nothing if he announces that he’s not
looking for anything serious...AFTER you've already gotten naked. I
should have gathered my clothing and dignity, fled, and never spoken to him again. But
no. I just lay there on my stomach, as if frozen, while he gently rubbed my
back and repeated this dreadful statement. Maybe I just didn’t want to believe
how shitty the situation was, so soon after a previous heartbreak. It
didn’t help that I let my guard down again at the words, “I’m sorry. I just can’t
stop touching you.” He was getting over a breakup, and he had cried to me, even! How could I resist? I spent most of the year giving him the benefit of
the doubt. He was a good man, I thought, for continuing to try and maintain a
friendship. I found out recently that he had reunited with his ex, and this
made me realize that his weak attempts at friendship weren’t for me at all, but
just to make him feel like less of an asshole for using me to temporarily fill an empty space.
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