No, it doesn’t happen to guys. (I am a guy.)
I’ve done this before in various social situations. “NoSpeakaDAEnglish!” is my favorite thing to say to peddlers and people who look like they want to talk too much. I’ll alway sometimes try to talk to them in languages that aren’t common in my area.
[QUOTE=MeanOldLady]
I know he’s just trying to be nice
[/QUOTE]
Sounds more like he’s hitting on you.
My wife gets the “smile!” shit all the time, especially (now where’d I put that worm-can opener? Ah, here it is) from black guys. Yeah, guys of all races and hair textures try to pick up women, blah blah, but for some reason everybody from the pimple-faced bagboy to the guy who looks like Ossie Davis’s grandpa feels entitled—nay, compelled—to try to mack on her everywhere she goes.
I used to find it annoying, but now I just stand back in amusement while they run their tired lines on her. Never seems to occur to them that the white guy standing two feet away is somehow… connected?
Oh dear, I caught myself going out of my way to avoid someone annoying this morning! My upstairs neighbor is a ok guy, but it’s impossible to have any conversation with him that is shorter than 10 minutes long. I was on my way out the door this morning, running a little late, when I heard guy upstairs coming down the stairs. I knew it was him since the other upstairs apartment is vacant. So I waited inside until I heard him start his car in the parking lot… he’s been known to follow me to my car still talking even though I’ve politely told him I needed to get going.
I moved in with my sister and her roommate as a fully paying member of the household. [they co-owned the house so I was quiet and didn’t spend much time in the common space.]
My sister worked all the time; her roommate never worked (Dr.Daddy paid and had paid for all her bills.)
The roommate took me on as Her Project.
First thing I noticed was a poster of Tammy Faye Baker (may she r.i.p.) on my door. The caption, “Your Quest for Beauty may be Killing You.”
I kinda thought, “hummm” and went on with life. Next time I ran into my sis I asked her about it, she said Roommate felt my use of make-up was ~~ (I can’t remember the words but the idea was ‘over the top.’) At the time I wore lip gloss, tinted sunscreen and mascara, which I continued doing w/out regard to Tammy Faye-on-the-door.
I admit at this point if I heard Roommate coming down the stairs I would close my door. Sometimes I’d stand there listening and hope she was going out or back to the attic. I started to think she knew I was doing this.
Roomate gave me short, directed lectures on all matters of personal stuff. I hung in there by nodding along with the subject de jour.
One of her points was that she could ‘smell meat on me.’ Living as a strict vegetarian she began diagnosing my diet at 50 yards, and smelling me if we were in proximity. oh, house rules were ‘no scented products’ but I could use soap, toothpaste and mouth wash. I knew I was crazed when I left for a date through my window. It was a 1st floor window, thank og.
I’d found another place, and was down to 10 days before making my exit when I found STUFF under the sheets in my bed.
I’d made up some epoxy (art project) and following the printed instructions carefully discarded the mixing tin and supplies. Roommate recognized them as being potentially recyclable, and ‘to teach’ me more about the house rules on proper trash disposal she retrieved them and, well, I did learn something when she put them in my bed.
Moving day was October 31. I wore a full mask as I carried my stuff out. Scary Halloween story.
At my old place I had a roommate. My roommate had a really annoying friend. He was always making up stupid stories and saying ignorant shit. I once loaned him 20 dollars because I knew he was such a pathetic jerk that he would try to dodge me rather than pay me back in a timely fashion. I didn’t see him for months. He eventually turned up, and when I brought it up he actually did pay me pack. But even if he hadn’t, it would have been well worth the money to have him avoid me.
I stole the idea from the movie “A Bronx Tale,” which I can’t really recommend as a movie, but the strategy worked out pretty well.
Perhaps they’re aware, just . . . unimpressed? 
“C’mon, smile!”
“Say something amusing, first.”
Or the old standby: “You know, a friend once told me to ‘smile, things could get worse’. So I smiled and sure as shit, things got worse.”
Could be. Pretty sure I could take the old guy, though, if not the bagboy.
Oh, definitely do it. And if it is, tell her the story every day or every other day. Or say things like “So how was your entrance into our grand office today :D” which’ll give her an entrance to bitch about him. The more people she hears complaints from on him, the more likely she is to pass that shit on. Find out from (female) co-workers if its happening to them too and get them to pass it along.
ETA: Two 55 year old dudes were staring at my chest at Panera yesterday on my way to the soda machine. I walked all the way around the restaurant to get back to the table with the SO rather than the most direct route so I wouldn’t pass them again. Someone my age? A tad annoying. Someone my dad’s age? Disgusting. Not a “great” length but I certainly did elect to go out of my way.
A female worker in the company cafeteria has done this to me several times. It doesn’t really bother me at all except that it reminds me that unfortunately my neutral face must appear to others as an unhappy one. My other coworkers told me that I seem to be surrounded by a “F$#@ you wall”, even though in my head I feel like an easy-going happy guy.
What a shock you are as rude and unpleasant in real life as you are online!
If you have a problem with lindsaybluth, take it to the Pit.
twickster, MPSIMS moderator
Probably thought you were her accountant or something. Reminds me, a few weeks ago I (not white) was out to dinner with a male (white), who asked the hostess to seat the two of us. Said hostess, apparently stunned, asked if we were together. No, ma’am, the only two people at the stand, who are standing side-by-side, with the request for a table for two are not together. I was just there to make sure he and his imaginary friend got a seat.
Breccia, yikes! Did you ever tell your sister that her/your roommate was a proselytizing weirdo?
MeanOldLady wrote, “Breccia, yikes! Did you ever tell your sister that her/your roommate was a proselytizing weirdo?”
Nope. My sister’s kinda half in half outta the same boat (made her cat into a vegetarian etc etc.) They’ve (now) been together a decade; sis is still working her brains out, Roommate’s fully funded by Daddy.
I steer clear.
One weird thing–Roommate ignores me in public as she largely did in the house all those years ago; so now I just nod if I pass her. However. The few (3) parties I’ve been to at their place Roommate’s effusively greeted me. I give her my biggest white-strips-user smile, say “Hello” and slowly revolve away.
The next time I see her on the street…or anywhere she will look away at my “Hello.” seems I’m still wearing that Halloween mask.
To be fair, though, I hear it’s just you and Prince holding down the fort up there.
I believe Prince moved to Vegas, and I moved to Chicago. So now there’s that one lady at my old job in accounting all by her lonesome.
You got that shit in Chicago? Now that is disturbing.
I use public transit all the time and usually read while on my way to wherever.
Someone I barely know sat next to me and insisted on having a conversation…
I got off the train (he did too), waited for his attention to be elsewhere…
and hopped back on just in time, choosing a different seat!
So I never go to the Potbelly next door to my building, due to the homeless man who stands outside and says, re-fucking-peatedly, “Can you help the homeless? Working on lunch, can you help the homeless?” Working on lunch. For some reason, that phrase is like a tiny fucking bullet in my ear, and just pisses me off. Working on lunch? Why does he say that? So today I decide to go that Potbelly because I don’t feel like paying more than $5 for lunch, and it is too damn hot to be taking leisure walks to a location farther away.
Fine – it’s only going to be a few seconds, and if hearing him say that is the worst offense I encounter today, I’m doing all right. Then, as I’m about to enter he says to me, “Excuse me, young lady. I see you’re working on Potbelly, can you help the homeless?” Agghhh! Why does he say this? It is so f-ing irritating! Why does he have to comment on people are “working on”? Okay, so I know that’s one of the stupidest things in the world to be bothered by, but it just gets under my skin for some reason. At least he changed it up a little and didn’t say “working on lunch.”