Happy New Year! Have some sexism!

We’re six days into the new year and I haven’t posted a New Year’s blog yet. Must rectify!

Our plan was solid. Get to the party around 9pm, drink, eat, make merry, countdown to 2012, kiss, continue to drink and make merry, eventually go home and pass out. The first was missed (my fault) by approximately half-an-hour. The next few passed as planned. With one minute to go, Nicky quickly re-stocked our cups with tequila and lemonade. A great cheer went out at the stroke of midnight. Nicky struggled through the revellers to get back to our seat. And a man I had very briefly met earlier in the evening asked if he could take the one empty seat next to me.

“No.”

I didn’t feel like elaborating. We were five seconds into next year and I wanted to kiss Nicky and tell her how much I love her. My drunkenness would not abide my usual apologetic verbosity. So he passed by, and Nicky sat down, and we drank to the hope of 2012, and we kissed, and I told her how much I love her. The merriment continued.

Much (read: MUCH) later, most of the partygoers had departed into the great yonder, to home, or to kick-on elsewhere, and I sat with Nicky, reliving the past few hours. There is something intensely amusing about watching a film featuring Steve Guttenberg and The Village People without sound; I’m not sure I could have discerned the plot much better if I had all the dialogue. Throughout our mostly uninterested viewing of Skippy (I think I was keeping track of time by what was on the telly), the man from midnight sat on the other side of the room, glancing over occasionally. His expression unnerved me. Nicky noticed one raise of his eyebrow that seemed out of sorts, but thought nothing of it. Creepy Guy was probably nothing to be worried about, so neither of us wanted to fret about him.

The fretting began in earnest when I returned from scoping out the loo (occupied; I determined that I didn’t really need to go anyway, because then I would have to stand and wait) to find the host of the party to one side of Nicky and Creepy Guy next to where I had been sitting. He scooted over and gestured to the room he had so generously made for me, and I squeezed myself in. The Host was asking Nicky about a hypothetical shot she may or may not be enticed to do (hint: the answer was ‘nothing, I’m good thanks’). Creepy Guy followed suit and asked me the same question. I provided the same answer as Nicky and he quickly let it drop. His next conversation-starter really cemented the moniker I have given him. Pointing to a woman on the other side of the room, Creepy Guy asked, “Is she not attractive?” She was and I replied so. After several variations on the same, each met with a similar short answer, he asked, “Would you not mount her?” Thankfully, I was not still so drunk as to maintain an agreeable pause and returned, “I’m not sure the word ‘mount’ is really the best word.” The best, most unfortunately, was yet to come, and here I’ll quote verbatim, to the extent that I can remember:

“You know, I really admire your relationship. I was saying to my housemate today that all I really want is a boring relationship.”

I’m not entirely sure what he said after that, what with the rage of a thousand agave plants rushing through me, but it continued along the same backhanded comment theme.

I understand what he was doing. It’s a classic line-up of techniques to undermine and undervalue. The progression goes something like this:

See something I like =>

Make tentative steps to obtain thing =>

Fail to obtain thing/Discover thing will result in mocking =>

Deny thing =>

Call attention to something ‘better’ than thing =>

Subtly insult thing =>

Exit, with smug sense of victory in tow

This sequence is universally applicable to people, pets and inanimate objects. Bonus if you think the object of your desire has wronged you, and the last three steps are your grand revenge.

Transposing the above onto Creepy Guy, we get:

See a Hot Girl =>

Ask to sit next to Hot Girl at midnight, possibly to swoop in on ‘Midnight Kiss’ territory =>

Fail; Hot Girl is in a Lesbian Relationship^TM and isn’t paying any attention to me =>

It’s totes fine, no big =>

See, there’s an Even Hotter Girl over there! I would prefer to “mount” her over Hot Girl =>

Yeah, what do I want with a Hot Girl who’s in a Boring Monogamous Relationship anyway? =>

I am completely secure in my ability to pull Hot Girls, unless they’re Lesbians, in which case, they’re not really Hot Girls and not worth my time

I could list all of the things about the above scenario I find offensive, but I’m sure you can pick them.

What I do wonder at is why the above progression is at all necessary? Do we all possess an innate selfishness that demands we seek retribution for perceived slights at our worth? We have the option to bow out gracefully, why not take it?