Cat dragged in something a little different today. Only have a limited amount of time to write about it right now before heading to work, having just gotten home finally. Am still a bit shaken up and upset. My friends have warned me for years that it may be a matter of time before I run into my own “Mr. Goodbar.” Much as I can’t stand the thought of that, I do appreciate their concern and understand how my lifestyle worries them at times. I’m not afraid to engage with strangers or to head after-hours with people I don’t know to continue conversations. Always been that way and mostly haven’t regretted it. But sometimes I do.
Last night I headed back to the place of a stockbroker and apartment complex owner, letting him know in advance it was only for conversation, guaranteeing nothing more, per my usual disclaimer. Rode with him to a town right outside of the city I live in. Had a nice place, seemed to have his shit together, figured it would be a fine evening. And I was wrong. Shortly after arriving he hit on the pro-life/pro-choice debate and asked my position. I am staunchly pro-choice, as most know, and so I related that. He turned out to be staunchly pro-life. Okay, well, I’ve dealt with plenty of pro-life folks over time and usually we can find some common ground. Not this time. The dude turned into a complete jerk, saying he normally kicks girls out who admit to my stance. Well, I attempted to pull up Uber on my phone so as to get a ride out of there since he became so belligerent, but luck would have it that no Uber driver was available then, which I showed him. Even downloaded the Lyft app and attempted to leave that way, but he’s far enough out I guess to where no one was available on a Sunday night to provide rides from there. I don’t know. Figuring such shit out after an evening of drinking is a bit tricky. Should’ve just called a cab and agreed to pay $40 or more for a lift back into town.
The evening got a bit hazy. I recall drinking a bit of his wine that was already uncorked [stupid, yes, absolutely]. And I recall trying to Uber out of there. And I also recall him saying that he’s booted numerous females in the past for admitting our pro-choice stance at just such an hour and in a similar condition. Next thing I know I’m waking up this morning, having wrapped myself in a blanket and kept away from him. He was butt-naked in nothing but his socks. I never touched the man. Not a kiss. Nothing. Stayed to myself, awaiting a ride back to my car in the morning after his tirade last night left me feeling thoroughly uncomfortable.
This morning I awoke and poured a glass of water, smoked a cigarette on the balcony, and then woke him requesting a ride back into town, as he had promised the night before. But no, he decided to be a total dick. Began calling me a “baby-killer,” a “murderer,” and told me to get out. Well, I’m sober now and it’s daylight, so no, fuck that, I refused to go easily. I did yell at him. Yes I did. Last night he was so concerned with me keeping quiet, and I acquiesced, but today I had no desire to accommodate him any further. So yeah, I went a bit wild cat on his ass. Told him off in response, loudly, fully understanding his elderly tenants might hear me. Because fuck him. He threw out numerous girls in the past in the middle of the night for simply stating they were pro-choice?? Want to start the day off by calling me a “baby-killer”? Seriously?? Sorry, folks, but I had had enough of his bullshit. So I went there. Told him I needed him to dress and take me to my car, yet he insisted on remaining rebellious and refusing to do so. He threatened to call the police and I asked him please to go ahead and do so, figuring they wouldn’t charge either one of us for anything but at least a domestic disturbance would be registered for his address. Because fuck him. Every other girl simply accepted being booted in the middle of the night without challenge?? No. Somebody ought to shut his shit down. That was my thinking this morning. If he wants to treat women this way, well, he’s opened himself up to running into a bitch like me along the way. He said he would’ve never brought me home had he known I was so difficult — yeah, well, likewise. I would never have agreed to accompany an asshole stockbroker back to his place had I known beforehand I’d be accused of murder all evening, even without him knowing a damn thing about me or whether I’d ever undergone an abortion, only based on my political stance in that sense.
He threatened me some, but I maintained my physical distance and repeated my demand to be driven back to town to my car. Even went so far as to beg him to do so. He proved smarmy, conceited, and sadistic in his mannerism and comments. A real asshole. Probably the biggest asshole I’ve dealt with since 2008, and that’s saying a lot since I regularly run the barscene and have met my share of jokers over time. He wanted me out, fine, so tell me the address to where I’m at. He refused. I called my close friend and while I had him on the phone this son of a bitch still refused to share his address so I could be picked up. So I grabbed a magazine with his address on it and read it to my friend instead, which this Marc motherfucker tried to take from me. You want me out yet you don’t want anyone to know where to come retrieve me from?? It didn’t make sense. A sadist, like I said. Seemed to enjoy making me squirm, hence why I was such a bitch toward him in kind.
But I maintained my physical distance. The joker said a few times “don’t touch me,” but I was across the room each time he said it. I assume this was for the benefit of any neighbor who might hear us. I didn’t touch the man. Knew better than to do so. My legal mind kicks in in situations like this, thank god, reminding me to watch what I say and to not touch anything or anyone in any way that might be misconstrued as abuse or damaging. Good on me for that, since that indeed appeared to be what he was baiting me to do. Fuck him. Weird ass coward. Extremely strange motherfucker, and no, it matters not how much money he may have. Still a weirdo looking for some kicks that I can’t comprehend entirely.
Anyway, I read off the address to my friend a couple of times and told him I’d be outside waiting for him. Headed out and sat by the road for a while, then this SOB drives by and asks if I want a ride. No, mister, at this point I do not. I obviously had to call for a ride after arguing with your ass for an hour. Fuck you. He drove off, then circled back and taunted me some more while I sat by the road. Then he drove back by a third time offering a ride. All this after a solid hour of refusing to give me a ride, threatening to call the cops, calling me a “murderer” and “baby-killer,” AND telling me to suck his dick if I wanted a ride home. Oh, did I leave that part out before?? My bad. Stupid son of a bitch. Fuck no, I want nothing from your weird ass at this point, mister. Waiting in broad daylight now in 20 degree temperatures for my friend to drive all this way to come get me thanks to your sorry ass.
We live in the Midwest where it’s currently extremely cold, mind you. So this motherfucker was kicking girls out at night when the windchill brought temperatures down below zero. That’s who this sadistic pro-lifer is. Can you understand why I stood up to him and gave him a hard time right back? Are you starting to see why somebody like that might deserve to have some grief flipped right back at him??
Look, I was crying this morning while asking this son of a bitch for a ride to my vehicle. I couldn’t contain my vulnerability had I wanted to. But like I told him point-blank: mister, I am not looking for a fight but I damn sure will give you one if that’s where this is headed. Because somebody has to stand up to pieces of shit like him, and I got all the time in the world to do so. He didn’t seem to expect me to flip him grief right back, which tells me most of the girls he’s treated this way in the past probably sulked and slinked off without giving him any hell. Okay. Maybe they were young. Or maybe they were scared. I understand that. And then he met me, and I can’t quietly stomach assholes like him. Just not in my nature. Right or wrong, I can’t do it. Like I already said, maintained my distance and was careful about legal considerations since I know how some folks roll and how they try to bait you to lose your cool enough to where they can then trap you in some sort of offense. Not happening here. I know how to play this stupid game. Isn’t my first rodeo, mister. Told him he had me fucked up if he thought I’d react like some 22-year-old who hasn’t come across these sort of shenanigans yet. Completely had me twisted if he assumed that was the case.
But I was shaken up. His words were intended to strike deep, but I know that pro-lifers like him aim for maximum impact. Probably the worst one I’ve been behind closed doors with so far, but still. I know how people are and how they can try to mess with you psychologically on such matters. I am aware of the decisions I’ve made in the past, whether this guy did or not, and I also know I made the best decision for myself and my loved ones on that occasion. In fact, the friend who drove out there to get me this morning was the same man I dated once upon a time who went through the abortion process with me as the prospective father. We talked about on the way home how men don’t have to go through this shit, don’t have to hear people call them these names and treated as though their womb is a curse. It is a lopsided ordeal, as we all know. And that son of a bitch stockbroker had no trouble trying to fuck women, trying to get them to perform oral sex on him, trying to intimidate women, yet he can stand back in self-righteous indignation and condemn US for our choices that he himself gives no fuck about helping make necessary. And I told that joker that. Flat-out did. I would’ve sooner hitch-hiked back to civilization before giving that man a blowjob, trust that. So glad to have not laid a finger on him last night. Yup. He might insult the hell out of me, but at least I knew better than to touch his sorry ass.
Another thought occurred to me on the way home this morning. I asked my former partner the other day if I sometimes act like a stereotypical black woman. And by that I mean out of control and loud and obnoxious and manly with my aggressiveness. He kinda agreed that I do at times. Okay. I accept that. I’m a Southerner and black culture stemmed out of Southern culture, so it makes sense. But I hear a lot of men, especially online, complain these days about how women aren’t feminine anymore, how we act too hard, too aggressive, too masculine in our approaches to situations. Okay. But here’s the thing, fellas. Some of these guys out here ensure this is the case, especially dealing with a preponderance of them over the years. You want a soft and sweet woman, but the reality out here calls for something else at times. I know what I’ve come up through and realize why I behave as I do at times, and I can’t help but see it as justified in some cases. Because otherwise people will just walk all over you, and then, thinking they got away with it, continue walking on everybody else they can. The buck has to stop somewhere, so I guess I’ve made it my mission in life when it comes to some males to become an obstacle to such intentions. I don’t suffer foolish assholes gladly. Can’t do it. Won’t do it. Yeah, I may cry during the process since I am an emotional woman, but I will most definitely stand up for myself and others. Period. Might not always do the best job of it, but this is who I’ve become, right or wrong. All I know is I’ve been put through enough with jackasses to where I won’t go silently when they choose to mistreat me or others for no good reason. Just won’t.
Some say that’s dumb of me since I’m likely to wind up hurt eventually. But so be it. Have been hurt before, so I understand that. Doesn’t always turn out well. But at the end of the day these losers at least tend to respect me on that level. They may consider me crazy but they at least learn to cease fucking with me, one by one. And hopefully, with any luck, they’ll think twice about fucking with other females as well since you never know what you’re gonna get. We all can act sweet out in public and then show other colors behind closed doors. Anyone who thinks I’m that easy of a mark has another thing coming. I will fight back in some sort of fashion, even if I’m bound to lose. Though I do prefer diplomacy and remaining reasonable, once someone clearly steps beyond that tactic working, what else can I do? Tuck my tail between my legs and simply let them have their way? Let them stand there trying to humiliate me for no good reason while I remain silent? What, run to the Law with all my social problems? No. I fight back, one way or another. Has that hardened me over time? Probably. Am I less feminine as a result? Undoubtedly. But I don’t even know what femininity is supposed to be anymore. Seems like a weakness on these occasions. I cry, I beg, and they laugh and cajole. So then what? Take the supposed high road? And just let them get away with their bullshit completely unscathed? I have a hard time accepting that.
So yeah, I’m not a sweetheart and never claimed to be. Had that motherfucker been in my home I would’ve removed him by any means necessary. That he lures women back to his home to verbally assault and then kick out in the middle of a winter night unless they agree to perform sexual favors on him is atrocious. No, I cannot and will not let such shit slide. Cannot. Did not. Thanks to his mailing I now have his full name and address and will consider what to do with it. I think other women ought to know to avoid the jerk, but I’m not sure how to go about informing them. Probably can’t do much in that respect, though I am considering at least writing a negative review in regards to the apartment complex he owns. We’ll see what can be done there. He’s a sexual harasser of the highest order, a real snake in the grass whom I just happened to run into last night by chance. Is it my fault for giving time to such an asshole? Apparently. As soon as he told me he was a stockbroker a red flag went up. Never met a decent stockbroker in my life. Should’ve known better. So that was my bad. But other women likely will fall in his trap and be treated poorly, as he already admitted was the case prior. So what’s to be done here? He has enough to lose that he cares about to where he won’t likely go full criminal psycho on a woman, but he at least is intent on being a serious pain in the ass in his own way. I wish there were a way to make a guy like that think twice about his choices there. I wish there were a way to make him reflect on his behavior and treatment of women to where he could fully grasp how uncool this shit is. But I am one woman and don’t possess that much power, so I don’t know what I feasibly am capable of here to warn others to leave him alone. I will most certainly return to that neighborhood bar and let the regulars know to avoid him and will alert the bartender that was on duty last night. But that feels like barely anything at all. This joker will continue to behave as he does and luring women home so as to harass them on his turf, and I’m sure plenty of other females will be made to leave in the middle of the night in freezing weather because this jackass despises their reproductive rights. Ticks me off to no end, but what can I do? He’s not the only jackass out there geared this way. Guess I can only look out for myself and my own neighbors and just hope others wise up to him. But that doesn’t feel like much help to hardly anybody.
What an asshole. Truly.
It’s past time for me to head to work now. Frickin’ joker started off my week on the note of calling me a “murderer,” a “baby-killer,” despite knowing nothing about me. Just because I am a woman in possession of a womb who happens to be pro-choice. Okay. Well, goddamn it. I’d rather be a “murderer” than bring a child into a situation where he or she isn’t fully wanted. And I sure as hell wouldn’t breed with a low-life like that man. It matters not that he has money. The dude is a sorry human being undeserving of being a father if that’s how he wishes to treat people. I don’t know what may have happened in his life to turn his heart so cold toward women or for him to take such a radical pro-life stance to where he feels the need to berate women on account of it. Will never know. But I pray something turns that son of a bitch around and gets him to see the light. Because what he’s doing is wrong. It certainly ain’t right and it helps absolutely no one, including himself. All that money and all that time on his hands, and this is how he chooses to conduct himself as a man in his 40s? That’s sick and sad on so many levels. All I was wanting was interesting conversation last night, as I’m always seeking, and yet here we are. Stupid and pointless is all this turned out to be.
Update 12/28/2016: Saw that weirdo a few days ago for the second time. Ran into him in that same neighborhood bar and confronted him. Fuck it, I was out in public. Realized nearly a day later that my jewelry was missing (probably took it off at some point during the night, per my habit) and asked him about it. Said he had it in his car, invited me to sit down in the stool beside him and paid for my beer. Hmm. This is early that evening so I was sober, being polite enough to wait out him returning my jewelry. A few minutes later he retreated to his car and came back with my earrings and ring in a plastic bag. And once that was over (having already written off ever seeing those earrings again, upset as it made me that I didn’t realize I’d left them there), I resumed my confrontation and asked him a few questions. He asked me how often I come to that bar and was acting pretty strange at first, like he was playing really nice and trying to reassure me he’s not a bad guy. Yeah, well, no. I mentioned some of what had gone down at his home and he instantly began blowing me off, telling me to leave and go elsewhere. So I took my drink to the back room and finished it there. Then returned to him and the guy he was chatting with a few word to say. Told him he should discuss abortion-related matters with people in public before inviting them home if it’s going to be such a contentious subject with him. He began waving his hand and saying “nah nah nah.” Continuing, I said it was messed up that he’d request a blow job in exchange for a ride back to my car, and I told his friend to consider warning his female friends about going anywhere with that dude because he’s fucking weird. Then walked out. Haven’t been back there since.
Not much else I can do. Oh, but on another note, a friend said the guy’s not even a stockbroker. So I did ask this weirdo and he admitted he’s actually a financial advisor. Another friend explained to me that this means he may advise people on stock purchases but isn’t in control of ordering the stock himself. Ah. Then my former began putting two and two together and remembered a man by his description being accused years ago of giving a female friend of his grief at their workplace (a finance firm). This weirdo spoke several inappropriate things to the woman in question and then allegedly waited behind a concrete beam one night for her in the company parking garage. Freaked her smooth out, so she contacted whomever to report the incident. My former partner recalls running into the guy later on and asking if he still worked for that company, and the man said no. Also, strange as this is, my former also recalls nearly 15 years ago this guy walking into a local bar towing a vcr with a video stuck inside, requesting help in getting it out. My former was with the mother of his child and their friends at the time, and he was able to dislodge the stuck video for him. Then this weirdo says to my former that the video he was watching was of his last time having sex with his ex-wife. Shit you not, that’s what I was told. I’ve been instructed to ask the weirdo about that incident if ever we run into one another again, though I doubt I’ll be granted the opportunity after how last time went.
Frickin’ weird dude, ya’ll. That’s all I’m saying. Didn’t mean to meet him and am apparently an idiot for ever giving him the time of day or leaving with him. Bad idea on my part. Lowering of inhibitions is an undeniable feature of drinking alcohol, no question. And this is yet another of those events that force me to stop and seriously reckon with my lifestyle and choices. Has at times led me to interactions with very messed up people I otherwise might’ve possessed the sense to avoid. That’s just a fact of life, so I might as well admit it.