Why These Men Will Never See Me Naked

I’m a firm believer that misdirected attention is a strong current that pulls my chances of ever finding a loving relationship out of Cupid’s reach. The following vignettes are true instances of men – whom I would never bring home to Mom and Dad - showing me unwanted attention. All occurred within a span of one (1!) week, just to drive home the point that I surely must have assaulted someone in another life to have such tainted love karma.

● Leaving the grocery store, a homeless man standing outside the exit asked me for money. Rain + hands full of groceries + concern for safety as a 5’2” woman pulling her wallet out at night = motivation to just keep walking.

“Can’t I even get a hug?” he shouted after me. I grimaced in his direction, provoking him to call out obscenities about my body. Glorious.

● A garbage truck drove by me as I was walking to work and the man hanging off the back blew kisses at me. Right, like I would ever go for someone who didn’t wear their seat belt.

● The student teacher assisting in yoga class checked me out as I rolled out my mat. Throughout class he gave new meaning to the term “hands-on assists,” introducing his hands to my hips, upper thighs, and the outer edges of my ears (weird).

When I was in Paschimothanasana, he squatted behind me - placing a foot to the outside of each tush cheek – and pressed his belly (Buddha-esque) against my back, pushing forward to ease me further into the pose and apparently accomplish his own ulterior motive. Gross.

● On the metro home after my invasive yoga class, an Irish man leaned over to me and said, (read in your best Irish accent) “You have a striking resemblance to that woman in the poster o’r there.” Oh, you mean the woman who’s twice my age with crows feet, a side part (and a barrette to boot), and is endorsing asthma medication for her five year old son? Why thank you. Story of my life.

Obladi Oblada.