The King of Condescention

I have met a male that is at least 12 times as “confusing” as the average female. I met this young man in none other than my Women’s Studies class, a class dedicated to stirring up its female-dominated audience against the patriarchy.(AKA my most favorite class I ever did take.)

From the first day of class, I would catch this gent staring at me from across the room multiple times per class period. After a couple of classes, I suppose he finally caught my full name, and found me on Facebook. We engaged in casual cyber-conversation after I’d accepted his friend request, and he attempted to flatter me by telling me how visually appealing I was to him.

The next day in class, the boy avoided any sort of visual or verbal contact with me. Things grew awkward really fast due to his deliberate “ignoring” of my presence. What? Was he embarrassed that he’d validated my suspicion that he thought I was cute? Naturally, I returned the favor, and, in attempt to increase the awkward tension, I avoided that boy right back.

The semester progressed, and so did the platforms in which the boy communicated with me, none of which included face-to-face interaction. One day, he found me on SnapChat. He then sent me a selfie with the caption, and I kid you not, “I want you. All of you.”

So here’s this kid who doesn’t even have the guts to have a face-to-face conversation with me. Telling me he “wants me.” These type of messages continued, and he repeatedly notified me of his desire to cuddle with me, kiss me, and most recently, go hot tubbing with me. It’s amazing how greatly your confidence increases when you’re safely sheltered behind a computer screen or mobile device. Because there is no way in heck this boy would approach me in real life and say ANY of these things in the hallway after class.

Don’t even get me started on the damage social media has done to our social skills.

Continuing on.

The other day, this boy wrote me a message on Facebook, asking a question on one of our assignments. I answered his question, to which he replied, “that’s what I thought.” I responded, “you thought right, champ!” to which he said “generally.” I sarcastically praised his humbleness, and in retaliation, he informed me that I was an arrogant brat.

At this point, I had lost my sh*t. I was infuriated. I went off, my fingers swiftly and forcefully pounding the keyboard. I told him that he had no right to call me that just because I’d damaged his ego in refusing to kiss, cuddle, or whatever else he wanted, with him.

He didn’t message me for a week or two after that little episode. Then, yesterday, I the following status: “GUYS. It is totally hot tub weather. Who’s in?”

Minutes after posting this, I received another message from this boy. He told me he’d “tooootally” go hot tubbing with me. I began listing reasons why I could no longer go hot tubbing. Somewhere within the conversation, he called me “sweetie.”

ATTENTION, EVERYONE: don’t you DARE call me “sweetie” if you wish to keep your larynx functioning properly. That is the most condescending thing you could ever say. “Sweetie.” That stupid pet-name is how mommies and daddies refer to and address their three-year-old offspring. That was an insult to my intelligence, age, and hinted that this boy thought he was either above me, or somehow a significant other who had the right to use gushy pet-names that supposedly indicate affection.

This boy, may I remind you, won’t even have a verbal conversation with me. What right does he have to call me anything other than my name? I am infuriated. And we will most definitely not be going hot tubbing together any time in the near future.

Don’t call me sweetie, or I will show you fifty shades of sour.

And also, if you think I’m cute, come tell me in person. I am the least intimidating person in the history of non-intimidating people.  Typing “ur cute” and hitting the “send” button means absolutely nothing to me.

M.