Dating Woes or That Time a "Perfectly Good Man" Called Me a Bitch

I guess I’ve been out of the dating loop for far too long.

There I sat, alone, in my favorite restaurant, Cracker Barrel, with a book. A new book by an upcoming writer, Ty Nesha, called Cash Only. I was excited about this for a few reasons:

• For one, I was about to be face deep in the most buttery, delicious pancakes and hash brown casserole.
• For another thing, I’d had a chance to read a few chapters of the book and each page was filled with drama, passion, and all the makings of a best seller that’s almost impossible to put down.
• And, lastly, I was kid free.

My food came and I began greedily shoveling forkfuls into my mouth, poring over each line of the book in wide-eyed wonder. And just as I was settling deep into cartel life and starting to believe that the main character, Cash, was a long lost imaginary sister, my thoughts were interrupted by a weak, almost inaudible, “Excuse me, miss. Can I bother you for a second?” I almost didn’t even notice him standing there and would have probably ignored him altogether had he also not been wrapping his fist on my table.

“Yes?” came my irritated response.

“Um, such a beautiful woman such as yourself has to be spoken for, but I didn’t see a ring on your finger…”

I waited for a question. When one didn’t come, I politely told him that I really wanted to get back to my meal and my book. Please and thank you. Obviously not getting the message, he continued, “I understand, but really want to get to know you. Do you have a number?”

Did I have a number? Of course I did. I was progressively becoming more turned off with the interaction, so, mustering the warmest smile that I could, I gently informed him that I wasn’t interested. I moved to pick up my book, expecting that he would walk away.

But, he didn’t move.

Looking up, I caught the most hateful glare I’d ever seen on any person’s face. He looked like one of those cartoon characters who turned bright red and had smoke coming out of his ears. “Maaaaaan, that’s what’s wrong with you women today,” he spat, angrily. “Here you have a perfectly good man willing to step to you and show you how you should be treated, but you bitter bitches don’t even want to give a dude a chance.”

I stopped him right there.

First of all, I told him, he wasn’t my type. Next, a “perfectly good man” would never reference women as “bitches”. Lastly, my lack of interest doesn’t mean that there’s something “wrong” with me.

But, what I found wrong with this entire interaction is that he felt like it was OK to react like a newborn because he had been told no. I could understand if I’d yelled, cursed, or demeaned him in some disrespectful manner. All I’d done was said that I wasn’t interested.

At that point, I made it clear in my uncertain terms how I felt and where he could go. He sheepishly slid into his chair a couple of tables down, hanging his head so low, I was sure that his waitress would trip over his pointy chin. He sat and sulked, looking like the saddest violins should have served as the soundtrack for his life in that moment.

It was at that moment that I thought that the new dating scene wasn’t for me.

But, no! This was a prime example of how men try bullying women into dating them. This turned out to be a sad, somewhat embarrassing moment for me, but I have heard stories about women who have been assaulted and even killed as the result of some poor sap being butt hurt about being turned down.

While it might be too unrealistic to think that someone would like rejection, is it too farfetched to expect that a grown man should know how to accept “no” graciously and move on to someone else who might be interested?

Where did all of these sore losers and whiners come from? Maybe they are the result of being given “at least you tried” awards as children, celebrating mediocrity.

At any rate, more women should stand their ground (if it doesn’t risk their imminent safety). Maybe these guys will begin to reflect on themselves and step their game up rather than attacking the women who have to witness the train-wreck that they call “approaching a woman and expressing interest.”

Leaving the dating pool isn’t the answer, I know, but not being afraid of a few fish might be a good start.