hile I don't generally have any desire to leave the house or interact with other people once I do, at times it can't be helped. And as you'd expect, given the relative quality of humanity, many of the few interactions I am forced into are on the strange side.

This articles page collects accounts of these sort of interactions, in all their gruesome detail.

• More of this sort of thing from the Articles Section:
  • Laundromat Stories
  • Shopping Stories
  • Wacky Customer Service Stories

More recent social disasters are added on top of this page.

April 8, 2003

After a long bike ride, I had a painful hankering for fish and chips and shrimp, so I called Anthony's Express and made an order to go. When I got there there was a short line of about 7 people, and three of them were women around my age (thir... twenty-nine), together, talking to each other.  I didn't take any special notice of any of them, and was looking around the restaurant idly, wishing the people would order faster, since I could see that my to go order was out already, and getting cold.  There are two lines there, one for normal and one for take out orders, but of course there was only one cashier at any time, and people who were making regular orders were just milling around in both lines.

Why must they torment me so?

Anyway, after a few minutes one of the three women turns towards me and looks me up and down, very slowly.  Not like a checking me out look, more like she was evaluating my clothing or appearance.  I had on faded jeans, my black Warcraft: Lord of the Clans t-shirt (first time I've worn it since about last E3), black socks, and black nike sandals. I have no idea if I looked any good or not, but Malaya says I do, and I'm filling out a t-shirt pretty well these days with broader shoulders and chest from all of my push/pull-ups.

She must not have been too repulsed, since when I looked down at her (she was short) she started talking to me. And very quickly. To give a quick sketch, she was a bit over 5 feet, short light brown hair, sorta spiky but not butchy, wearing jeans and a long sleeve flannel shirt over some sort of t-shirt.  Not anything at all sexy or revealing, but I got the impression that she was very thin. She looked mid-30's, but might have been younger. But she looked her age.  No one ever thinks I'm over 30 by appearance.

She had a very narrow face and nose, and eyes close together.  I felt like I could have put my hand over her eyes, sort of palming her face, and reached her ears, she was so narrow.  Not ugly, but I wouldn't have approached her out of some sort of "interest" if I'd seen her in a store or whatever. She was prettier than her friend though, who was also white, but maybe some small % Asian, with long black hair and somewhat overweight, in jeans and a blouse.  The third friend I didn't get a good look at, since she was on the other side of the talker and about ten feet away, having already ordered and probably fled to avoid the 100th re-telling of the puzzling boyfriend tale. Which you'll read very shortly.

(This is all verbatim, with various "ums" and "ahhs" and "okay's" removed, to make it read better. This actually happened 99% as it's presented here.)

"How old are you?" were the first words out of her mouth.

"Thir... twenty-nine." I replied, in my pat response to that question.

"Twenty-one?" she asked.

"Thirty-one." I said, giving up on repeating the joke.

"Perfect!" she said. "I have this guy who is 31 and we've gone out like six times. He's never really initiated anything, but once I get him to go have a few drinks, hang out with some friends, whatever, he's great.  But I always have to make the first move or call him." I'm nodding here and there, and making eye contact, all like a normal person.

She went into more detail that I can't be arsed to type out here and now, and one of her friends was laughing and making a quick comment every now and then.  No names were exchanged at any point. Picking up on her monologue:

"We've not had sex, but we've made out and fooled around some, like everything short of the main event.  Anyway, Friday we went up to LA and went skiing for like six hours.  Had a nice time.  Afterwards were drove back past my parents' house since they live up there, and ended up staying for dinner and overnight, and one thing lead to another and we did the deed.  In the morning we fooled around some more, naked bodies, but no sex.  After we got back home he said he'd had a great time, etc.  And I haven't heard from him since.

"I don't normally just talk to whoever like this, but I'm wondering about a man's point of view. Sorry if this is TMI."

"You're telling him way more than he needs to know." said the friend.

"Well he needs the background info to make a comment." She said. "I'm very aggressive and direct in going after what I want..."

"You?  No, I wouldn't think that." I said, with gentle sarcasm.  She and the friend laughed, and she continued, "But I'm worried that's maybe scaring him, and he wants me to be quieter and let him take the initiative some time. What do you think I should do?"

Her story was longer than this, and more explicit/detailed.  Really.  I wasn't shocked, since nothing shocks me, and if you've read this site for any amount of time you know that I'm not uptight about sex either.  I was a bit surprised at the amount of info she was giving me, a total stranger, but anyway, I played along. My advice, when she finally stopped talking, was not listened to.

"You know men are clueless, right?" She laughed and her friend laughed.

"We really don't have a clue.  We don't analyze relationship stuff like women do, we don't think on that level, we don't know when we're supposed to call or what we're supposed to say if we do..."

That's about as far as I got before she started talking again, and telling me more examples of how he hadn't done what she wanted him to do.  Her friend even interjected with something like, "You know he just gave you a gem of advice." And she said "yeah" and just went on about how once he was doing stuff, he was great, just how he didn't initiate it.

"I called him at work today at lunch and gave a real friendly, no-pressure, 'Hi, how are you.' type thing and he just talked normally.  Nothing romantic or whatever. So you think he just really doesn't know any better?  My friend thinks I should make him call me next, and not keep initiating, see if he really wants me."

Etc.  She wasn't babbling, but she talked very quickly and clearly had gone over this several times already, but had made no progress in getting a grip on the surface of the dilemma.  More of how he didn't initiate things, but was fine once they began followed.

This seems long to read, but it couldn't have been more than 3-5 minutes in person, since the line had hardly moved.  And I was starving and wanted to get home and relax, as I was tired from the bike ride.

I tried again, "Have you tried having this conversation with him?"

"What?"

"Just what you're telling me here.  That you feel like you are doing all of the work in the relationship, that you don't feel properly-appreciated or desired, that you don't want to always be the one who initiates things, etc?"

She heard nothing, "So you think I should give him more chances?  Wait a few more days?  My friend says I should dump him if he doesn't call me. I'm not impatient, but I need to feel like he's really into me, not just when I call and ask him to be..."

She went on in this vein, but now talking to another friend, or possibly a complete stranger, I wasn't sure.  I was sure that I had a direct line to the counter and took it, quickly grabbing my take out and paying my $8.08 (yes, I knew how much it was in advance after ordering it a few times in the past).  From behind me she pops up again with a mild, "Hey, you cut in front of me." to which I replied, "Sorry, but I'm just grabbing my order to go."

"Oh, okay." And she returned to talking at someone else.

As I turned around she looked at me again and I said, "Well, I think you need to try and communicate with him and tell him just how you are feeling.  Hinting and waiting isn't working.  Good luck."

And she looked somewhat thoughtful, but I was gone by then.

I found it an interesting little exchange on a number of levels.

For one thing she was very touchy-feely, reaching out and pulling my shirt from my side a couple of times, touching my arm another time, when I made her and her friend laugh (there was more small talk than I included here, more interjections by me, etc).  Plus her friend was staring me up and down most of the time, and I got the strong feeling she was attracted to me. I wouldn't doubt that the talker was also, but she was obviously involved with another guy already (sort of, anyway).  And it's irrelevant anyway, since I'm very monogamous in my affections, and Malaya is my pick for now and as long as we're happy together.

Also this is a tutorial for you guys out there.  Women always want you to call them.  Never think that they are too busy or don't want to be bothered or whatever. No matter how busy, she will always appreciate a call, even if it's a very quick one, just to let her know that you care and are thinking about her. Especially if it's the first day after your relationship had taken a turn for the deeper (AKA sex).

The profile of her character would be interesting to delve into as well. She didn't hear a word I said in advice, and I think I gave good advice also.  She wanted a male PoV, or so she said and thought, but she really didn't. She really just wanted to talk about her issue again, with a fresh audience, and either didn't consider that I might have actually useful advice, or didn't want to hear it. So she didn't, and everything I said went in one ear and out the other.  Assuming it even penetrated that far.

It's funny how people in relationships play so many games, even if they don't really want to or mean to. That chattery woman had this whole "when he should call me" chart in her head, and I'd bet that the guy didn't have a damn clue about anything she was thinking or worrying about. And meanwhile she's spending all of her time worrying about and wondering if he really likes her, and she'll have this full conversation with random strangers in line at a restaurant, but won't have it with her boyfriend.  And will instead just keep hinting at him to be different, to be how she wants him to be, but you and I know that he never will if she doesn't communicate more honestly or intelligently or openly with him.  And even if they get over this current patch, their relationship would be forever a case of her wanting him to do things differently than he was doing them, but never actually telling him why or how she wanted him to do them.  And then being annoyed that he didn't do them how she wanted them done.

It's really all about communication, 99% of the time.

August 26, 2002

The funnier human interaction was after work Sunday, at Rubio's.  It's a fast food place with Mexican food, mostly seafood.  Their big item is the fish taco, which is a soft flour tortilla with two or three long fish sticks in it (batter deep fried strips of cod, I suspect), covered in shredded cabbage with some salsa and tarter sauce.  They come wrapped up with a slice of lime, and I have those with the lime squeezed on top, and some hot salsa. If I bring them home I'll usually add some sour cream and maybe black lives.  They are damn tasty.

Rubio's also has tons of other stuff, shrimp burritos, quesadillas, carne asada burritos, combo platters, etc.  It's quite tasty, much above the usual fast food.  Right now they're having their semi-regular $.99 fish tacos, which is why I stopped by.  I got four.

The funny part was that while I was waiting (it's usually slow, the penalty for better quality food) I sat down and talked to one of the employees who was on his break.  I'd seen him before working there, and he recognized me and asked me to sit.  He was demolishing a huge platter, free food of course, and was startlingly-frank.

I was eating a jalapeno, as I usually do while waiting for my food (they have a self-serve salsa bar, with hot and mild salsa, sliced limes, and a tub of jalapenos) and perhaps that impressed him.  Most Mexican guys love that; they grow up eating really hot food and it's a matter of pride that they can do so, and most white people are wimpy about anything hot, so if you are white and can handle the hot stuff, they seem to feel a camaraderie.

Also he was right in front and I was standing by him while I waited.

He was really talkative and friendly, but in an odd way.

First thing after I sit down; he's looking past me at the line by the door, and starts going off, "Damn, look at the titties on her!"

I look and there's a woman, and she did indeed have breasts, but I wouldn't have given her a second look.  Late 30's, bit plump, blonde, jeans, black t-shirt.  I mean not ugly, but not on my radar.

Not so with my new friend, who continued, "Man, she's a little bit old, but damn those titties!  I'd just suck that one... mmm!"

Keep in mind that we've known each other for upwards of 15 seconds at this point.

He eventually got off of that topic, and talked about surfing, how sick he was of Rubio's food after eating it every single day forever, how he was going to head down to the beach and surf until dark as soon as he got off work in 15 minutes, and of course more about girls.

"I met this girl at a party last week, and then she came in here the next day, in these tight little shorts.  Goddamn I wanted to just stick my tongue up that pussy!  You know, man?

"Hey, you can put that jalapeno right on my tray here, I'm done.

"Damn, look at those two!  That's the best thing about working here, so many hot women come in."

This time it was a pair of semi-cute girls, maybe 14 or 15. He wasn't exactly whispering this either, mind you.  I guess if you're horny enough, every female is hot.  Sort of like permanent beer goggles.

I guess it's nice to see a guy with such enthusiasm for things, and I'm glad he's fixated on sex rather than, say... armed robbery, but I was left to wonder what he talked about with his friends?  More of the same I guess, and he's just willing to share with almost total strangers.  Or perhaps I look like a horny guy myself, so he felt he could open up.

My fish tacos were at last ready, and he went back and got them and bagged them for me, when the cashier was busy with an order.  We shook hands once again, I wished him happy surfing, and I was off.

August 17, 2002

My hair was about a month overdue for a haircut, and I finally got out Friday afternoon and got it taken care of.

I went for most of my 20's with long hair.  Not waist-length or anything, but after some years of a pony tail, I let it grow all over and it was about shoulder blades length in back.  The bangs were the longest part, so it all came to the back, pulled straight back always, though I'd wear it loose from time to time.  Girls loved it.  I don't have any pics of me from then handy, but I'll dig some up at take a picture at some point, for it was long and reddish-brown-blonde and shimmering.  Every girl friend I had in college would just play with it and comb it and run their fingers through it, etc.

Anyway, around two years ago I was getting tired of it.  Long hair is high maintenance.  You have to shampoo and condition it just about every day, or it gets itchy and snarly.  It's hot on your head and neck all the time, it's a pain when you sleep; smothers you when you roll over.  Your bathroom and shower drains are always getting clogged from the long strands, and it even screws up your vacuum cleaner, winding all around the rotating brush thing.  This isn't to mention people mistaking you for a female from the rear view, having to brush it back from your face all the time, etc.  The annoyances of it are legion; so you have to really want to have long hair to put up with it.

I eventually got to where I didn't want it enough anymore, and cut about 6 inches off one night myself.  That was still shoulder length and didn't look that different, so I cut about another six inches off the next day, and then about a week later went to a barber for the first time in like eight years, and got it shorter and organized.  I felt like such a tool, all white bread and neat and such.  The outlaw youth was gone forever.  Or something.

Of course no one else really cared, just that people at work were asking me, "Did you cut the hair?" for a while.  So obviously they had noticed the long pony tail, though no one ever commented on it when I had it.  Bastards.

In the two or three years since then, I've been experimenting with various styles, and not found one I like yet.  I don't really care how I look enough to bother with my hair being just so, and I don't want it newscaster short and neat, but other than that I don't really have a clue.  I don't like big hair; so I keep the sides short, so it doesn't poof up, but mostly I've just been doing a center part with it short on the sides and back.  It's ugly, I'm sure, but I have no eye for what looks good on men.  Other guys hair I just never notice, unless it's a total disaster.  The only things I do notice and dislike in male grooming are sideburns (hate them), and scraggly curly short hairs on the back of the neck.  Guys get those after they get a haircut and don't keep shaving the back of their neck, and I think they look just horrible.  I do the beard trimmer thing on my razor every week or so just to get those; easy enough to do it by feel.

Anyway, my point is that I never know what I want in a haircut, but I just get them when it's becoming too annoying to ignore.

Yesterday's haircut was interesting solely for the haircutter, who was flirting outrageously, as best I could tell.

She was early 30's, dressed like an 18 y/o, and relatively cute.  Reddish faux leather jeans, black belly shirt, and about 5 pounds too heavy to wear that really well; she had a little pot poking out.  Not fat, but maybe 50 more sit ups a day would have helped.  I didn't find her sexy at a glance, but as she worked on me, I started to notice her more.

Her top was tight black, cleavage style, like a V-neck, with a push up bra.  So she had the twin bullets look, with the v-neck low enough to show off a lot of each breast.  That's from 10 feet away.  I was one foot away, and she repeatedly stood right in front of me and leaned over, while holding the sides of my head.  She was doing that to judge how even my hair was on the sides, but I've had 8 or 10 hair cuts with my hair sort of how it is now, and this was the first time the person on the other end of the scissors used a technique at all like that.

At one point she was talking about her daughter's sun burn, and showed me her burnt shoulder, which entailed reaching up to her shoulder, and pulling her top and bra strap down over the side of her arm. It wasn't a flash or anything, but it was rather a lot of skin on display suddenly.  Not the sort of thing you expect a total stranger to do.

She was also very touchy-feely, resting her hand on my back as I first sat down, running it up my neck as she'd walk around behind me, leaning into my arm with her belly as she was cutting.  Since she was doing that from the first time I sat, I initially thought she was just like that.  And maybe she is.

First thing was shaving up the sides and back some, taking off the growth from the 3 months since my last haircut. She was pretty normal with that, and after a bit more snipping took me over for the shampoo.  As I was sort of expecting, she did a much longer shampoo than they usually do, really massaging and scratching the scalp, which feels great.  When I do massage on a person (woman, ideally) I always spend a lot of time on the head and face and neck, rather than just the shoulders.  Really relaxing; lots of tension in the scalp for most people.

She didn't just quick shampoo as usual, she scrubbed and rubbed, then rinsed and did some sort of conditioner as well, which I've never had a haircutter do at that place in the 4 years I've been going there.

Then it was back to the chair for the trimming, and she was talkative and enjoyed my wry humor, but was spending a lot of time standing in front of me, looking right at me from a foot or two away.  I'd look back a bit, but I didn't want to seem like I was staring too much (though she obviously wanted me to?) so I'd look off to the side or down.  But down was her belly, about three inches of nicely-tanned skin visible over her thick belt, and up higher were the twins.  I'd be looking up to the side sort of absently, and she'd hold my temples and look into my eyes, and say, "Can you look down?" which of course put me right at her tits.

While she's doing this she's standing in front of me, and there is a counter with the mirror there, so she's resting against my knees.  Other cutters when they do you from the front they rotate the chair, but she'd just squeeze between the counter and the chair, which meant she was virtually in my lap probably 50% of the time.

The conversation was funny also.  I really wasn't trying to steer it in any direction, but she was combing my hair out and checking for the length, and saying, "It's about six inches this way.  Is that long enough."  I said, "Now you know that size doesn't matter." in a joking fashion.

She immediately came back (as women 98% of the time do), "Oh yes it does." While she's standing literally a foot from me, with her hands on the sides of my head, looking into my eyes.

Now perhaps she's like that with everyone, or with all the guys, trying to get big tips? She mentioned having a 12 y/o daughter, and asked how old I was, where I worked, etc.  Didn't say how old she was, but she guessed 25 for me, and seemed happy to hear that I was thir... I mean twenty-nine.  Of course.  Anyway, how did it turn out?  Did I ask her if she were single and wanted to get dinner some night?

No, of course not.  I just enjoyed it for the experience, and didn't really give it any thought at the time.

I've always felt like I should seem non-horndog.  Most guys I see ogling every woman in range, turning around to stare when a pretty girl walks by, and just generally making a spectacle of themselves.  Women claim that they don't like it when men are obvious like that, but I think what that means is they don't like it when men are obvious like that towards other women, or when the guy being obvious is all skeevy or won't take a hint if they don't like him.

This woman at the hair cut place obviously dresses pretty sexy to get attention, and was obviously giving me every hint on earth that she was interested, right?  Or maybe she was just a flirt and meant nothing of it, and my lack of immediate slobbering encouraged her to keep trying to get a rise out of me. So to speak.

It's funny, back in high school when I had it short and could never set on a style (which is why I ended up just growing it long and shapeless) I used to want to shave my head, just to not have to deal with or think about it.  Unfortunately at that time no white guy on earth had a shaved head unless he was in chemotherapy, boot camp, or was a Nazi. Or all three.  Even black guys weren't doing it much yet.  Now that white guys can have shaved heads, and often do, I can't quite bring myself to do it, mostly since it usually looks horrible.  Though I'm sort of interested to see what my bone structure would look like, if my hair was very short.  I like how I look with my hair just cut and all brushed back when wet; my head looks small and sleek.  So no hair at all, or just a little bit on top would probably be cool.  Maybe next time. 

Afterwards I was thinking about her actions, and wondering why I wasn't excited.  Literally as well as figuratively.  I mean that's about the most intimacy I've had with any woman in several years, since I've not been on any dates.  This probably gives you a good idea why; since I can get just short of a lap dance with scissors and not even get a hint.

She was cute, she was friendly, she was fun to talk to, and she'll be totally forgotten in like two days, since I just don't seem to have any need or desire for female company at this time.  I didn't even get into the justifications for not pursuing her that I usually do when I think about why I'm not dating.  No thoughts of my lack of money, crappy apartment, weird pets, impotence... um, no wait, I don't have that last one.

But I didn't even have to think of reasons to talk myself out of it, I just didn't have interest in it in the first place.  I don't think this is normal for a man.  Not like anything else I do is either, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I'll get another hair cut in like November, so cross your fingers for more hot scissor action then.