How to Recognize the Creep in Yourself

If you feel like you're being creepy, chances are you're probably being perceived as creepy. What gets me is how many guys are being creepy as viewed from a female perspective. Well, at least my perspective.

Scenario: You're just a girl standing in line at the gas station, waiting to pay for your 32 ounce Dr. Pepper, a cream cheese Danish (a healthy lunch), and some gas. You're wearing your favorite t-shirt, a carry over from your past life when you actually DID rock climb and suddenly, out of the blue, a creepy, forty-something guy starts talking to you. He wants to know what Pusher is (as though drug dealers are going to shrug off the law and simply advertise their profession, unintimidated, recognizing the "it was a joke" potential). At the same time that Mr. Creepy is trying to strike up a conversation, the gas station attendant is also asking you what pump you're on. You finally get the chance to tell Mr. Creepy that it's a climbing company. He wants to know if you climb, you say yes (even though you don't, not really, anymore). He leaves.

You're a girl, do you find that creepy or just friendly?

Scenario: You're just a girl at a gas station. You're perusing the drink selection, trying to overcome the temptation of the fountain drink Dr. Pepper. Green tea? Yes, no? A young, twenty-something guy who looks obviously indie and totally harmless smiles at you. He's looking at the drinks too. You're friendly, you smile back, pick a drink, pay, and leave. You're out the door heading for your truck when you hear a voice behind you. It's the indie boy. You're wondering what the hell this could be. He asks you where you're headed, you say back to work (duh). He asks if it's by the West End area and you say no, it's in the opposite direction. Aw dang, he says, he needed a ride back to his car. You say sorry and good luck, and leave.

Creepy? I mean, just because he's not forty something and gross doesn't mean he's an angel, right? Would you give him a ride?

Scenario: You're at a local coffee shop (not a chain; shhh, it's important to the story) and you're buying some interesting drink like a Tazo plum juice or the like. It's your turn, you're paying. A sixty-something man standing behind you suddenly asks you out of the blue if you're a tourist. You're trying to pay attention to the cashier, but you look at him and say, "No." Then he asks if you're an artist. You say, "No," again. What is this anyway? He points to the Cash button on your bag and says, "I was just wondering because I saw the button." It's not making any sense to you. Only tourists like Johnny Cash? Hmmm.

In any case, creepy? As you walked back to your car would you check over your shoulder to see if he was following you?

Scenario: You're at work, heading back to the cubicle in your dungeon. A forty-something guy you have presumed to be a maintenance worker (he carries a radio and a lot of keys) sees you and starts talking to you. He tells you that you're hard to find and that he's been looking for you for a while. He says he's got it narrowed down and then he says you're first name must be "_______" [insert your name here, remember, it's got to be a girls' name]. You laugh uncomfortably*. Not knowing how to avoid this maintenance worker, you retreat to your cubicle, hoping he'll let you go. But along the way he says he's narrowed it down to a few cubicles. When you get to your cubicle you try to hide inside. He doesn't recognize any of the signs and he obviously doesn't care about the ring on your finger. Nor does he care that one time he actually happened to be at the same restaurant as you and your husband. He makes small talk, and you're polite because you're a polite person. After a few minutes of completely awkward conversation, he tells you that if you ever need new shelves in your cubicle, or hangers, anything, just to page him. Then he makes sure you write down his pager number and he leans in as if to show you the pager but you can't shake the impression that he's trying to get a whiff of your hair. He says you can call from any phone, not just your work phone.

Creepy? You decide.

The point is, men can be creepy and they need to be aware of it. It doesn't matter how attractive or wealthy, if you strike up conversation with a complete stranger, I call it creepy. Especially if you're asking for something like a ride. Women are ever aware of the physical advantage men have over them and if you don't want to be thought of as a creep, you need to be sensitive to that. I'm not saying to never approach a woman. I'm advising that you try to imagine the situation from her perspective and recognize where she, as a woman, might be coming from. Because you, as a man, have the physical advantage.

I don't speak for all women. Just this one and a couple others who put me up to it.




*All men need to learn to recognize the uncomfortable, this-is-awkward-you're-creepy laugh. It would do them good.

Thirsty

Around here it seems like someone is always opening a can of soda. That click and hiss are so suggestive. I can hardly think of another sound that has got me so trained that I respond like Pavlov's dog. It's a downward spiral from there. You see, I've been trying not to drink Dr. Pepper -- all that sugar is so bad for me . . . but it tastes soooo good. Once I hear that sound all I can think about is opening my own can of Dr. Pepper.

When we went back to Utah for a visit recently, Stoker and I got Dr. Pepper at the Maverick gas station. You won't believe this, but it tasted so much better than the fountain drinks you find in Nashville. I'm not kidding. I don't know what it is. The water? Someone laughed at me when I explained that I think it's the water. But Dr. Pepper in the western U.S. isn't bottled at the same place as the Dr. Pepper in the south. And ask anyone, the water in Utah tastes better than pretty much anywhere.

So you combine better water with a delicious soda and you get a better soda. If I'm not mistaken, water is an important ingredient. In fact, I think it's the first ingredient listed on a can of Dr. Pepper. I'll have to check that later, since I don't have one sitting in front of me (oh, but don't be so quick to judge -- I have a fountain drink Dr. Pepper at my desk).

Back to the water thing . . . last year Stoker and I went to Lynchburg, TN, to the Jack Daniels distillery, and guess what makes Jack Daniels so special (one of the things)? The water. That's right. I'm not a big fan of Jack Daniels, but I do know that the big barrel house smells like pickles. So if you ever visit, be prepared to want two things at the end of the tour, pickles and whiskey. I'd advise you to just go for the pickles because the whiskey will only let you down in the end.

And if you ever visit Utah, make sure you try a fountain drink Dr. Pepper. Then come back and tell me it doesn't taste better than anywhere else you've tried it.