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Today at work I was shutting down the sphere and a very pleasant old man approached the desk. "Can I get a drink upstairs?" he asked.
The human brain is flawed in many ways, but I'll give it this: it can assess a million little sensory cues and render a verdict in an instant. So before this guy had finished his sentence, my subconscious had already delivered a flagged message to me that simply said: "NOPE."
It didn't help that the next thing he said, once I'd answered his concessions question, was "Where's that little redhead I was talking to earlier?"
"SEE? I TOLD you he was off," my subconscious said. "This is going to be terrible." Meanwhile my valor, which hadn't caught up to current events drew its sword and howled, "PROTECT THE REDHEAD!"
"The redhead's gone home," I said. ("Oh," my valor said, deflated.)
"Too bad," the creep said. "She was very intelligent. But I guess you are, too, with this job?"
I muttered a few things about how we all pick up a lot at this job. He nodded, then, apparently finding this a natural segue, inquired in that same pleasant chatty tone, "Are you a gay girl?"
"... what?"
He repeated it. He had, indeed, asked if I was "a gay girl."
I have often said that if I came with a warning label, it would be "CAUTION: ANSWERS QUESTIONS." I'm like some kind of weird genie, bound by my own inscrutable nature to automatically answer any question put to me. And sometimes I will answer questions I find implicit, and god dammit I will KEEP answering them, I will answer the HELL out of them, until everyone begs me to STOP FUCKING ANSWERING.
Which is why it came as a surprise to me when, upon being asked this question, I took a second to suppress that first impulse. Instead what I said was: "That is an inappropriate question."
I did not get offended or angry. This guy was not that kind of creep. He was the kind of creep you get when something has gone measurably wrong with their brain, with all of his body language screaming "HI! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW CREEPY I'M BEING!" And the guy seemed genuinely surprised and distressed when I told him that. He apologized profusely and explained that he has no problem with gay people, he has gay friends, it's okay with him even when they kiss and stuff, he just wondered, etc..
"That's nice," I said. "But that's still not a question you just up and ask somebody."
He mumbled a few more things and then I politely told him that I had Things To Do Elsewhere--gotta return the equipment upstairs, check on the dome, feed the triceratops, whatever. He wandered off.
I have no idea if he'll take that to heart, but I walked away oddly proud of myself. Usually encounters like that make me feel creepy, but this time I was thinking, "I said the EXACT RIGHT THING! Go me!"
I hope the creepy old guy has someone to take care of him. I hope he actually heard what I said. And I sure as hell hope he doesn't come slurking back around, because if he my valor's still got its sword ready. Ain't nobody gonna creep out our Redhead and get away with it.
Fun Discussion Topic: What do you think prompted him to ask that? I did have a flannel shirt, a short haircut, and a rainbow chainmaille necklace; I suppose any of those could have suggested it. Or maybe it was how I brushed him off a bit. Or maybe he was Rorschach without his mask on and he feels the need to find this out about everyone? I am really curious about how his brain got there.
The human brain is flawed in many ways, but I'll give it this: it can assess a million little sensory cues and render a verdict in an instant. So before this guy had finished his sentence, my subconscious had already delivered a flagged message to me that simply said: "NOPE."
It didn't help that the next thing he said, once I'd answered his concessions question, was "Where's that little redhead I was talking to earlier?"
"SEE? I TOLD you he was off," my subconscious said. "This is going to be terrible." Meanwhile my valor, which hadn't caught up to current events drew its sword and howled, "PROTECT THE REDHEAD!"
"The redhead's gone home," I said. ("Oh," my valor said, deflated.)
"Too bad," the creep said. "She was very intelligent. But I guess you are, too, with this job?"
I muttered a few things about how we all pick up a lot at this job. He nodded, then, apparently finding this a natural segue, inquired in that same pleasant chatty tone, "Are you a gay girl?"
"... what?"
He repeated it. He had, indeed, asked if I was "a gay girl."
I have often said that if I came with a warning label, it would be "CAUTION: ANSWERS QUESTIONS." I'm like some kind of weird genie, bound by my own inscrutable nature to automatically answer any question put to me. And sometimes I will answer questions I find implicit, and god dammit I will KEEP answering them, I will answer the HELL out of them, until everyone begs me to STOP FUCKING ANSWERING.
Which is why it came as a surprise to me when, upon being asked this question, I took a second to suppress that first impulse. Instead what I said was: "That is an inappropriate question."
I did not get offended or angry. This guy was not that kind of creep. He was the kind of creep you get when something has gone measurably wrong with their brain, with all of his body language screaming "HI! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW CREEPY I'M BEING!" And the guy seemed genuinely surprised and distressed when I told him that. He apologized profusely and explained that he has no problem with gay people, he has gay friends, it's okay with him even when they kiss and stuff, he just wondered, etc..
"That's nice," I said. "But that's still not a question you just up and ask somebody."
He mumbled a few more things and then I politely told him that I had Things To Do Elsewhere--gotta return the equipment upstairs, check on the dome, feed the triceratops, whatever. He wandered off.
I have no idea if he'll take that to heart, but I walked away oddly proud of myself. Usually encounters like that make me feel creepy, but this time I was thinking, "I said the EXACT RIGHT THING! Go me!"
I hope the creepy old guy has someone to take care of him. I hope he actually heard what I said. And I sure as hell hope he doesn't come slurking back around, because if he my valor's still got its sword ready. Ain't nobody gonna creep out our Redhead and get away with it.
Fun Discussion Topic: What do you think prompted him to ask that? I did have a flannel shirt, a short haircut, and a rainbow chainmaille necklace; I suppose any of those could have suggested it. Or maybe it was how I brushed him off a bit. Or maybe he was Rorschach without his mask on and he feels the need to find this out about everyone? I am really curious about how his brain got there.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 11:31 am (UTC)This is why I tell my co-workers that everyone is much much happier with me working at home. It's just all-around safer that way.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 06:05 pm (UTC)I'll note that I've already learned another important caveat, though: when a creepy guy creepily asks where your coworker is, the correct answer if she is still around is "I don't know; I'll check" so that the coworker will have a chance to tell you if they are NOT available for the creep. Possibly followed by "No, they are not" if they so request it to be.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-11 04:17 pm (UTC)I too am an answerer of questions, which is most notable when I meet Americans at work (which is an international airport) - they go "Hi how are you?", and then their eyes sort of glaze over when they get an answer that goes beyond "I'm good thanks". And I'm just thinking why do you ask if you don't actually want an answer??
no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 03:08 pm (UTC)I'd guess it was the combination of somewhat stereotypical appearance and the brush-off that prompted the question. And-or maybe uninterested body language contributed. I wonder what particular brain pattern he has that didn't flag that question as inappropriate but still allowed him to put together cues that might suggest the conclusion.
[edit] Flag. FLAG. Of all the typoes to make.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 04:01 pm (UTC)I'd guess it was more the visual cues than body language, for just the reasons you describe. I don't think he was getting body language, which is why I spelled it out for him verbally.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-04-10 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-04-11 12:09 am (UTC)My guess is either A) he's one of those creepy guys who thinks lesbians are lesbians just to get the menfolk all hot-n-bothered with girl-on-girl action and thus wants to find as many of them as he can and zeroes in on womenfolk who aren't currently engaging in social interactions with other people, or B) he's a creepy old guy like my grandpa, who doesn't realize that he's creepy and that if he had a functioning brain-mouth filter, he wouldn't be creepy.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-11 06:25 pm (UTC)It seems to me that certain people tend to assume that girls with short hair must be lesbians. Some thing along the lines of 'looks like a boy' --> 'must like girls'? Very inappropriate, in any sitation, but especially while you're at work. You handled that really well, too! :)
no subject
Date: 2015-04-11 09:13 pm (UTC)A boy (since 'boy' then meant 'servant') was called a 'nave girl'.
no subject
Date: 2015-04-11 09:39 pm (UTC)