What a lot of men don’t seem to realize is that there’s a whole world of difference between, “I have a boyfriend/lover/fiance/husband,” and “I don’t think my boyfriend/lover/fiance/husband would like that very much,” at least when used as a response to a come-on. On the surface, they seem fairly interchangeable, and they both relay the message that the lady in question is unavailable. However, they mean totally different things about the dynamic between the two of you.
The first, depending on how it’s said (and whether a left hand gets waved in your face, in some cases), can mean a couple of things. Either you’d have a good chance is only she weren’t attached, or she’s annoyed that you’re too stupid to see that she’s attached.
The second means that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell and never would, but we don’t want to be so rude as to say “Go fuck yourself.” It’s an attempt to politely but firmly discourage further attempts, while keeping the whole thing on a light “We both know you’re just kidding around” note. We could say that we’re busy, but we don’t want you suggesting other days/times/places. We could just say we’re not interested, but we don’t want to go through the whole “Well, why not?” thing.
We’re not cranky that you asked, and you’re usually welcome to hang out and be friends, but it won’t do you a bit of good to keep asking us out. And if you do keep trying, we’re gonna get cranky or creeped out, and and things will get ugly. See the OP for examples.
Hell, I nearly ran over a man’s foot with my car once during one of these situations. I’d been grocery shopping, and was pulling out of my parking space when some guy came running up waving his arms. I thought something had fallen off my car, or I’d left a bag on top of the car or something, so I stopped. He wanted to know when we going out to dinner. I’m tired, and hungry, and in a mood, but there’s no reason to be rude to the man, so I trot out the “my fiance wouldn’t like that” bit.
This doesn’t phase the guy a bit. He points out that I’m not wearing a ring, and so Dr.J must not be much of a fiance. (In point of fact, we weren’t technically engaged at this point, and I never had an engagement ring anyway, but thats neither here nor there.) I still don’t want to be rude, so I tell the guy I don’t wear any of my jewelry at work, because it’s dangerous. He starts trying to pump me for information about where I work. I’m starting to get creeped out by all this, so I tell him that, look, I’m engaged, and even if I wasn’t I’m not interested.
So then he asks, “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?” No, it’s because you’re some creepy guy who flagged me down in a parking lot, won’t take no for an answer, and is now trying to get information about where I can be found during the day. I roll up the window, and he just keeps standing there, so I start moving, and nearly roll over his foot getting the fuck out of Dodge.
The guy was probably completely harmless, but I certainly didn’t want him turning up at the clinic, or knowing where I lived. This was a problem, because I lived directly across the street. I didn’t want the guy to follow me or walk by and recognize my car, so I wound up driving around in circles for 10 minutes to make sure he was gone before I went home.
The moral is: women don’t like it when you ignore the fact that they’re not available and keep hitting on them anyway. Some of them will just give you a fake phone number, but some of us will fucking run over you with the car.