If that was when you were 15 or 16, I dread to speculate on the state of your ears now, dude. 
Well I didn’t have hairy ears at that tender age and I don’t have 'em now. My arse is an altogether different matter
Personally I reckon she was a lesbian
Yeah, if she didn’t want you, must be. :rolleyes:
olivesmarch4th addressed the first part of your post, so I’ll address the second part.
Yeah. Seriously. What the fuck?
What does a rapist even look like?
What was the context in which that was said?
Is that a leg?
I want to rip this girl’s arms out of their sockets, then use them to beat her friends’ faces in. :mad:
Well, get rid of the scruffy beard and the tinted-windowed van full of rope and duct tape, and maybe people wouldn’t say that about you. Geez. :rolleyes:
Which time? :rolleyes:
The first time I was told that was when I was in high school. I had just asked a girl out (a big occasion for me, as I tended to, um, not do that). She looked at me with a deer-in-the-headlights expression for a minute, then said, “I can’t go out with you! You look like a rapist!”
And that was pretty much the extent of my high school dating career, right there. Luckily for me, I guess, she didn’t spread the story around.
Second time was when I was going to visit a former coworker (a friend to this day) who had moved across the country and was back in town for a few days. He and I have been friends for years, but I was always clean-shaven. In the two years he’d been gone we’d stayed in touch but had never seen each other, and I’d grown a mustache and goatee. I keep it well trimmed, and a lot of people have said I look better with it. I certainly look a bit older, which was a good thing at the time (not so much, these days :)).
At any rate, he opens the door and the very first words out of his mouth: “Dude! You look like a rapist!”
He’d never heard the story about the high school incident, and as far as I know, doesn’t know the girl.
The third time it happened was very similar to the first, except it was at a bar. I don’t do the bar scene much, but I was there and she was hot and we’d been flirting mildly all night and I figured, what the hell? Why not. So I asked if she wanted to go out for coffee sometime (I’m smooth, lemme tell ya). She hesitated, and then her friend (who had been mostly quiet but neutral all night) piped up. “She doesn’t want to go out with you. You look like a rapist.”
The hot one just shrugged at me and her friend led her away to the pool tables while I stood there with a gape-mouthed blank look on my face.
So. Apparently, I look like a rapist. Yay me.
Y’know, in high school – my senior year, at any rate – I could maybe see this. I drove a beat up Dodge van, with a wood-panel interior and deep-pile blue shag carpeting – with no seats! – in the back. IIRC the paint scheme was faded blue with several artistic splotches of primer, with a rust trim. And yes, I had an 8-track player that worked in the damn thing, just because. It was part of the dash, with my CD player velcro’d to the dash above it. 
So, if I’d been a senior at the time, I could’ve seen how the first incident might have come about. But at the time, I was a clean-cut junior who drove dad’s nice Ford Taurus, not the 70’s Babemobile (as my friends christened my van). And what little fuzz I managed to grow, wasn’t on my face. Heh.
Next time the Doper picture thread springs to life again I’ll have to see about getting all your opinions. 
So 3 people have said you look like a rapist.
Hmmm,
Thanks.
For what it’s worth, I probably took the coward’s way out on that one. At the very least I should’ve had the guts to challenge her about it. I don’t know if I could have, though. There I was, naked as a jaybird, trying to figure out what was going on – was it the shrimp at dinner? I knew we should’ve gone somewhere else instead! – and then, bam. Even though she wasn’t talking to me, that’s about the worst blow to the gut I’ve ever taken.
So, I chickened out and left. I take some small comfort in the fact that she never tried to contact me after that night, so my instincts about leaving were probably correct. I still feel like it’s unfinished, though.
Just, grr. I really liked her. A lot.
Is it the stringy, unkempt hair, you think? Or maybe the lazy, bloodshot eyes and the maniacal laughter.
Oh, I know! I should stop waving the knife around! Dammit, I knew there was something I was doing wrong!
(I laugh about it, but it’s still confusing. I don’t think I look like a rapist…:()
Sofaspud, what on earth do you look like? We have got to see a picture now.
Maybe I’m missing something, but in what way did you take the coward’s way out? What could you have said to her? Nothing would have made it any better, and had you gone off on her angrily, all that would have done was justify (in her mind) rejecting you. It looks to me like you did the only reasonable thing you could have done.
Well obviously he looks like a rapist
Yeah, that bites. Even so, you dodged a biiiiiig phucking bullet, IMO. And like Telperien said, it’s doubtful you could have done more than justify her decision to herself.
I agree. If anything, she ended up thinking you’d stood her up. Or feeling like an asshole if she clued in to the fact that you’d heard her.
A Cervaise link. Give me a place to hide, for I know I will be frightened.
Oh, gaddammit, why did I look? Now Mr. Hairychest Swirlyface is burned back into my retinas for another day. 
:mad:
“You should go talk to someone. Everybody can use a little therapy.” This from the girl that was near suicidal when we first started dating.
I’ll take Therapists for $200, Alex.
SofaSpud, by any chance during those three times, were you wearing a ski mask, and wielding a knife? Was your penis hanging out? Because that I could definitely see.