A couple of weeks ago, the girls and I decided to head out for happy hour. It was a holiday weekend and our usual Mexican margarita spot in the middle of a local college campus was looking a little dry as we assumed staff and students had headed back home for the weekend. Still we decided to make the most of getting out of work early and being able to snag a good table without having to wait uncomfortably by a packed bar for hours.
A little bit after finishing off a plate of Southwestern wings but before getting too acquainted with Don Julio reposado shots, my co-worker spotted a Lance Gross look-a-like lingering around outside with two friends as they waited to be seated. Once he got a table with his lanky light-skinned friend who just seemed to ooze “goofball” and a third guy I nicknamed “Tight-Purple.” (He was rocking a tight sweater that looked like it might rip from his shoulders if he sneezed.) That’s when the lingering gazes and coy waves began. Before I knew it I looked up and saw a bright orange Nike shirt that paled in comparison to the grin that the Lance Gross look alike was rocking as he leaned on our table with tribal tattoos that wrapped around his right arm.
Here we go, my girl was finally about to get the play she’d been inviting all night…until he opened up his mouth and uttered, “So which one of y’all are buying me a drink. I’ve been sitting over there waiting for the past ten minutes.” My first thought: It took him ten minutes to think of that lame behind line. I’m all about women’s lib and I must admit, there’s nothing like a cocky man to get me feeling some all flushed and feverish, but this was beyond cocky. This was entitled.
I’m almost 30, so maybe my ideas of the whole bar scene are a little old-fashioned, but brother was working a nerve. I don’t know if he was used to women falling at his chocolate-dropped feet, but I needed him to come better than that. And did he notice that only one of us was giving him the come-hither? He was cute but definitely not my type, but a part of me suspected that he half-way expected our hands to shoot up in the air scrambling to find our waitress in the hopes that one of us would end up on his lap feeding him nachos. Maybe I was taking him too seriously, or maybe both of our parties had some severe communication problems, but his opening line wasn’t enticing in the least.
It got me thinking: Are thirsty, desperate women making it too easy for men? I’m not saying that was the case in our situation, but seriously I’ve been to enough happy hours to see women who’ve gone to some desperate measures just to make sure they don’t leave the bar alone. I’ve seen women straddling strangers in a booth, simulating oral sex on straw, talking loudly about the ratings of their reproductive anatomy all to get some attention…any attention. It’s sad. There’s a fine line between being assertive and being thirsty. Assertive is following a guy you’re interested on Twitter and shooting him a flirty “Hey Sexay…” tweet. Thirsty is following all of his boys too so that you can get in good with the team. I’m not saying women can’t make the first move or that men can’t be courted, what I’m saying is we don’t have to come out of character to do so and we don’t have to subject ourselves to being represented only by sex because we feel that being alone is worse than being disrespected. It’s no wonder why men don’t even bother to ask you to go see a movie, before asking you to come over when all they have to do is look at woman to get her to bust it wide open at the bar.
As equal as we all would like love to be, the truth is dating is a power struggle. There are certain advantages that both men and women have at any given time and right now the fellas are winning. Gone are the days where a woman could sit at the bar and watch men trip over their tongues to talk to her, now men know that there are women who, if they ignore long enough, will get damn near buttnaked to get a guy’s attention. There’s nothing wrong with being a bit assertive if you know what you want, but you don’t have to lose your ability to be a lady while getting your grown woman on. When it comes to coming on to someone on the club scene, we all have moments when we are doing the absolute most. But by ordering the drink, buying it and serving it up with a side of sitting on his lap, we’re not leaving any work for the fellas to put in and making it harder for women who aren’t so forward. Next time try a simple, “How are you doing and what’s your name?” Any man that can’t meet you half way is either not interested or not worth getting to know.
When does flirting go too far?
Toya Sharee is a community health educator and parenting education coordinator who has a passion for helping young women build their self-esteem and make well-informed choices about their sexual health. She also advocates for women’s reproductive rights and blogs about everything from beauty to love and relationships. Follow her on Twitter @TheTrueTSharee or visit her blog, Bullets and Blessings.
