All of My Male Friends Are Perverts
When it comes to my health or anything affecting my life, I have finally learned to be firm, assertive, and direct in order to get my point across to people who just don’t get it. If I have to raise my voice in a room full of people, I will – because I am done.
I’ve always admired women who do this and have wanted to mimic them for years; but I didn’t out of lack of self-esteem or fear of being rude or a “bitch” – or convinced I’m supposed to be nice 100% of the time. And now, I just don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.
If it scares people away, then I guess I’m doing it right, because I don’t like too many people around me anyway. Don’t know where all of this is coming from, but my only drive right now is to tell it like it is. It spills out, whether or not anyone wants to hear it, because I am just that fed up.
My “don’t care” and “fuck off” buttons are permanently stuck.
Last week, I had a meltdown in the hospital right before a spinal tap. In pain, hungry, tired, alone, and stressed, I arrived 10 minutes early only to wait for an hour, because I was directed to the wrong place… which made the right place think I never showed up… which put me and everyone behind schedule for the entire day. I went off on a few people, which I’ve never done before in a medical setting. They knew what I was there for and never bothered to follow through, and I’ve had it with everyone else’s screwups and no one having answers. It’s everywhere I go, and it’s always at my expense. Done.
In my last counseling session, we discussed how I’m deleting people from my life, one by one, because I am tired of them, too. When people are extreme disappointments, it’s difficult emotionally when you are ill, because illness creates a magnifying effect. And the last thing an ill person needs is another monkey wrench. Since I’ve been dealing with this for so long, I am stuck inside my own thoughts and find myself questioning how the hell did I end up with these kinds of people in my life without seeing it before? These awful patterns?!! And how did I see their behavior as normal or even acceptable? Or was I just tolerating them?
When it comes to certain people, silence is the best anti-engagement solution.
This year on Valentine’s Day, I received a text from someone in my distant past… and when I say distant past, I’m talking 17 years. This middle-aged, never-been-married-no-kids, pathetic serial-dater still has my phone number.
Five words that describe him: Loser. Pervert. Creep. Narcissist. Predator.
He didn’t deserve a reply… hit the road, Jack.
A male friend I’ve known since college is about to be torn a new asshole. When we were in our 20s, it was a joke between friends when he always talked about masturbating. He was never threatening about it, and it was funny at the time, but still bringing it up in your late 40s without being prompted is just creepy and gross. No one cares about your middle-aged dick and what you do with it, and that’s exactly what I’m going to tell Masturbation Guy the next time he volunteers his perverse information.
The past few years, I started noticing Masturbation Guy’s creepy messages were more frequent, which I’m sure had a lot to do with the pandemic. He hadn’t been laid in four years and let me know all about it, as if I cared. Once in a while, a comment between friends is okay, all depending on context, but his creepy comments were inserted in every single conversation. It was nauseating, and I became tired of having to redirect the conversation, so I reduced contact.
Recently, someone we both know passed away, so I messaged Masturbation Guy about it. He answered, but not without including that he met someone and is finally having sex again. Thumbs up is all you’re getting from me, bro. Won’t be engaging in that convo, either.
The other morning, I spoke to a male friend I’ve been doing business with for 20 years. His company is my only savior keeping a roof over my head while I’ve been sick by allowing me to do short gig assignments that pay the bare minimum for my basic bills. There is no timeframe, I have no contract, and he is doing me a favor. The little income I have can end at any time.
If I didn’t have this gig, I would be homeless. Let that sink in.
However, things get really touchy in business, because as a woman, money often depends on how a woman reacts to a man’s actions.
Puffing up his ego, going along with his sexual jokes, and listening to his perverted bullshit will earn brownie points and deem you “cool” enough to do business with, sometimes generously. Basically, keeping him happy by keeping your mouth shut so he can live in his little depraved fantasyland is a bigger job than the job itself.
Long ago, I learned the hard way: no matter how repulsive or against your values, you do not bite the hand that feeds you. In a patriarchal society, I should be so grateful and thankful that I have this opportunity, because no one is ever going to help out a chronically-ill middle-aged woman. So I shouldn’t be complaining, right?
Initially, I thought my business friend was calling to check on me following the spinal tap. Knowing all I am dealing with, he still managed to say something gross, as if I don’t experience enough nausea. Not only was I disappointed and disgusted, I was hurt that yet another male “friend” was so thoughtless by telling me his stupid-ass fantasies right after I had a fucking spinal tap. What a selfish asshole!
(Put up with it or homelessness?)
A few weeks ago, yet another male friend showed his true creepy colors when he called drunk one night begging me to go to his house to smoke weed.
My actual response: I have my own medical weed, thanks anyway.
What I should have said: Why the hell would I get out of my warm pj’s on a cold, rainy night for any reason, much less to smoke weed with an annoying, rambling, drunk 50-something-year-old guy that has no chance in hell of ever dating me?
The last few times I saw him in public, he was wasted, so I haven’t wanted to be around him. I wasn’t really feeling well enough for a conversation, much less this one. He was talking over me, insisting on going to his house, which completely pissed me off.
If I have to say ‘no’ more than once, then you might make my shit list.
Then his voice changed, and I quickly became grossed out by the creepiness. Very unlike his natural voice, he began speaking very low – low in the way a man speaks to a woman he’s trying to be intimate with – offering to pick me up and take me to his house.
I physically felt like vomiting and yelled at him that I wasn’t going anywhere and to shut the fuck up for once and listen to me. He seemed offended, but I didn’t give a flying cockroach’s shit. Who the hell does he think he is? Since he’d been drinking all day, I’m not sure if he remembers calling me, because I haven’t spoken to him since. Last week he texted me Happy V-Day, which I ignored, because no man should be texting that shit to me when I’m not interested.
And now I can’t rely on him for anything, because he’s broken my trust by being just another typical creepy drunk male
It’s extremely violating for a platonic male friend to act sexual towards a woman that has NO INTEREST WHATSOEVER – and never has!! It’s creepy, it’s gross, it’s uninvited. New solution: Next time, I will tell him I don’t want to hear from him until he’s been sober for 30 days.
Stop being creeps!
Just because I’m a female or I’m nice doesn’t mean I want to fuck you, just like I don’t want to fuck my female friends – but so many men do not get this!!! Nor am I interested in a male I hooked up with 20 years ago, so shake it off, bud. Also, just because I’ve dated losers in my past does not mean that you should get a turn, because you think you’re better. Go ahead and erase that out of your stupid little heads.
Just because you think you’re good for me… or right for me… or nice to me…or just because you like me or did me a favor… or you’ve known me for a long time, does not mean I owe you a date – or a damn thing!
I don’t care how you feel. If you can’t handle it, fuck off!