Beware the Dimples

Going on about a hundred years ago now, I declared that I would be posting about the worst things men have ever said to me.

And by “worst” I mean “utterly, incomprehensibly male.”

The first one, for those of you who might not recall (seeing as it was roughly a century ago), was the “ah you a gay?” comment.

The second one – in no particular order – was this little episode, brought on while in the company of PinkJaime.

* * * *

Once upon a time, PJ and I decided to go out after work for one drink.

And by “one drink” I mean “accidentally staying from happy hour until the bar closed.”

Anyway, PJ and I were happily sipping our gin and sodas, people watching, casually chatting with the mostly regular staff, and having a lovely time.

Eventually one young man came over to our table. The bar was very small, and he had just sort of wandered in. He started off by talking to a few of the regular guys, but eventually ran out of conversation with them and decided to stop off at our table.

He was on the shorter side, cute and pink-cheeked with a great smile and to-die-for dimples. I thought it was remarkable that he had the chutzpah to just come up to us at our table and start talking, but he seemed completely comfortable about it.

On the other hand, PJ and I had already noted that he was wearing a wedding ring. Maybe it’s easier to talk to girls when you aren’t hitting on them, I thought.

Turns out that Mr. Cutiepie was as sweet and adorable as he looked. He talked about his wife adoringly. He talked to us about his marriage, and how he’s been with her for many years and it’s as great as it ever was. They travel together all the time. And, we learned, they have a baby (their first!) on the way.

At the time, both PJ and I thought this was the sweetest thing we had ever heard but obviously gin was involved. I say this because it did not occur to either of us to be concerned about the fact that the man who claimed to love his pregnant wife SO much was not, actually, WITH his pregnant wife...and was instead at a bar talking to two strange women while his wife was at home “giving him space.”


[Oh, but before you go and think THAT was an eye-roll-worthy turn of phrase, just you wait!]

After a few more drinks and more chatting, we seemed to be getting along famously. If we ever suggested that perhaps it was odd that he was at a bar with his wife at home, he was more than adept at convincing us it was perfectly normal and healthy and part of what makes their marriage work so well.

Of course. Totally made sense at the time.

As the evening played out, the downstairs part of the bar got very crowded. We decided, then, to go upstairs where there was a lot more space and fresh air. And where it was quieter.

Perfect, it turns out, for having serious conversations. Even if you didn’t know one was coming.

“Ladies,” Mr. Cutiepie said. “I have something I want to say.” He suddenly looked very, very concerned. “I’m not sure how to say this, actually...”

What was going on? What was the matter? Was there some great truth he was going to share with us? What sort of confession might we be the recipients of?

We encouraged him. “What? What is it? Please, go on. You can tell us.”

“Well, it’s really more of a question,” he confessed.

“You can ask us,” we said, or something like it. Because the truth was, we HAD been discussing a lot of things. And a few hours and a few drinks certainly made us feel like we were all old friends.

“My God, my heart is pounding,” he said. “Feel.” He put my hand over his heart and, sure enough, it was pounding. He felt very warm.

PJ started to look very skeptical, and rightly so. But I purposely did not. I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to say or ask whateverthehell he felt was such a big deal, mostly because I was dying of curiosity and I didn’t want him to lose his nerve.

After a little more coaxing, he gave in.

“I think...” he started.

And then he just said it all at once.

“I think that all three of us should go out to the parking lot and have sex in my car.”



I think that all three of us should go out to the parking lot and have sex in my car.

PinkJaime laughed abruptly. It was one of those “HA!”s that come out in a sudden burst, when something is at once funny and shocking.

Then, when she declined immediately, he actually had to ask why not.

Yes. He asked why not.

So she explained that, among other things (such as SEX in a CAR in the PARKING LOT) being inappropriate, also HE IS MARRIED and his WIFE IS AT HOME EXPECTING THEIR CHILD.

But rather than have him say, “Oh right, THAT,” he launched into some very elaborate explanation of how they “sort of” have an “open relationship” and really his wife is fine with it and that’s why it’s okay for him to be out at the bar in the first place.

But PinkJaime just flatly refused him, before I even had a chance to say no.

Once I DID say no, though – and you have to appreciate this – he looked at me and said, in earnest, “It would be okay if it’s just the two of us.”


You know, on the one hand, I almost admire the guy for putting it out there. Almost. It’s just that on the other hand, SEX in a CAR in the PARKING LOT with MY FRIEND while HIS WIFE IS AT HOME EXPECTING THEIR BABY.

Really now.


  1. Men. They always know exactly what to say to peg out the creepometer.

  2. Skip Cunningham5:16 PM, July 25, 2006

    I don't think that was weird at all.

  3. oh dear. i am not sure whether to laugh or cry.

  4. "sort of" and "open relationship" together in the same sentence?


    what a maroon!

  5. OH. MY. GOD.

    I'm speechless.

    "PinkJaime laughed abruptly. It was one of those “HA!”s that come out in a sudden burst, when something is at once funny and shocking."

    SO GOOD.

  6. Great story.

    My wife (hey I really do have one and I am really am faithful) told me a story from her single days. She was in a bar and a guy approached her, put his finger in a glass of water, sprinkled a drop on her shirt sleeve and his, and then said, "What say we go home and get out of out these wet clothes?"

  7. I think that this tops my being asked to do specialty porn (not amateur Paris Hilton type, but actual dear god porn). Well, asked through my friend. I think if he had actually asked me there may have been a slap involved.

    He did have chutzpah though, gotta give him that. Since that's all he's getting. I wonder how often that works.

  8. You write short stories. Wonderfully captivating short stories. Each one, entices me to the next one, just like reading an Alice Munro book.

    Save all these posts and put them in a book!

    Thank you for sharing.

  9. Oh, that is REALLY too much. Men.

    Mine was in NYC, at a bar, when a 24 year old was hitting on 40 year old me (if you ask me, the MILF thing has gone too far), and, after I'd turned him down, politely, then not too politely, then downright rudely, he said,

    "So, did you want to come over to my apartment in Jersey City to see the skyline?"


  10. I wish I could be shocked.

    But that would mean having never heard anything that bad before.

    And alas, I have. So I will just laugh instead.

    Funny thing is that the hubby and I were just talking last night about the worst pickup lines ever heard during our single days.

    Ever heard this one?
    "We should go out back and play a game."

    "What kind of game?"

    "Braile Anatomy."

  11. Okay, not a loser comment, but just the funniest one I've had directed at me:

    I was in a bar, hanging out with friends--this is a small bar, on Rice University campus. Anyway, this Irish guy was talking to me, and he was completely and utterly wasted. Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he stopped, leaned in, and commanded, "Take off your glasses and make love to me!" I'm still laughing.

  12. You meet the most exciting men.

    I love the men online who send you random messages and say "You sound really interesting, do you have any naked pictures of yourself? or maybe you and some friends? or even you and your husband?"

    Sure I do, and I am emailing them RIGHT the f**k over to your disgusting ass.



    More stories please.

  14. They really are retarded. I had a similar experience last year. The guy had on the wedding ring, so we thought it was "safe" to talk with him. He went on and on about his wife and his kids and how great the all were and how beautiful and awesome his wife was, blah, blah, blah, and then gave me a look of great meaning and said, "But my wife is very understanding."

  15. Oh my god that was so funny. A number of years ago I was at really nice bar with some friends and this guy struck up a conversation with me. Cute, well dressed, bought me a drink, we had good conversation for at least and hour before he went all "really really creepy guy" on me. He leaned over and whispered he would pay me $50 to go into the bathroom with him and watch him masturbate. Talk about a spit-take! I about choked on my drink and when I could breath again, I told him he had about 10 seconds to move away from me and out of the bar before I threw my drink at him.
    My other really bad club experience is here (but for some reason they god rid of formatting like spaces and paragraphs:

  16. Ohmygod.

    Oh my GOD. I mean, we've all been propositioned like that, but after a long talk like that? About his WIFE? THE THREE OF YOU HAVING SEX IN THE CAR?


  17. I just want to know how he figured that was going to be logistically possible? Did he have a Hummer? I know he *wanted* one, but did he have one?

  18. The NERVE!!

    This reminds me of the time a guy told me, "I want to pound you like hurricane Ivan." Um...are you speechless because I was.

  19. TOTALLY unrelated, but saw this and thought of you...
    1) 23,000 new blogs are created every day — that’s about one every three seconds (source: Technorati)

    2) 11% of Internet users report visiting blogs written by others. Between 2% and 7% of adult Internet users in the United States keep their own blogs. Of those, only about 10% update them daily, the majority doing so only once a week or less often. (source: Pew)

    3) 61% of the blog readers (of those surveyed) are over the age of 30, and 75% make more than $45,000 a year. (source: eMarketer)

    4) 66.0% of surveyed blogs had not been updated in two months, representing 2.72 million blogs that have been either permanently or temporarily abandoned. 1.09 million blogs were one-day wonders, with no postings on subsequent days. The average duration of the remaining 1.63 million abandoned blogs was 126 days (almost four months). A surprising 132,000 blogs were abandoned after being maintained a year or more; the oldest abandoned blog surveyed had been maintained for 923 days.(source: Perseus)

    5) 400,000 blog posts are created every day in the blogosphere, which averages out to about 4.6 posts per second, or over 16,000 posts per hour (source: Technorati)

    6) About 45% of all older weblogs have not had a post in 3 months. (source: Technorati)

    7) 92% of bloggers are under 30 (source: Perseus)

    Credit to a blog I found while blog-hopping:

  20. Um, wow. That's about all I can say about that. I’ve never been propositioned by a married man, at least not that I’m aware of. Very well written, can't wait for more stories!

  21. Kristy,

    I liked your story, I always do, but I have to take exception to the way you introduced it. Of these tales of the worst things said to you by men, you say by "worst” you mean “utterly, incomprehensibly male.”

    I would characterize the men in these stories as caddish, ignorant, oblivious, and reprehensible. You don't mean to suggest "utterly male" is synonymous with those traits, do you?

    I love women in large part because of their feminine traits, not in spite of them. I suspect, based on your body of writing, that you may feel the same about men.

    I'll admit the specific ugly shortcomings of these men are related to weaknesses inherent in masculine nature, and therefore not likely to be repeated in women. But when a woman's behavior falters due to some weakness of female nature, I try to view her femininity as a mitigation of her failure, rather than an indictment of her and her sex.

    I understand the humorous spirit in which you wrote this story. And I don't even begrudge you the occasional man-bashing as it relates to horror stories like these. I just thought I'd stand up and say a word (or 1000) for those of us men who own our utter, incomprehensible masculinity with pride.

    Keep up the great writing. I wouldn't trade your blog for the world.


  22. I'm with Serre. Even if you'd wanted to, HOW was it going to happen without some very bare butt cheeks pressed against a very cold window?

    Sigh. Rotten, rotten guy.

  23. Wow!...Wow! I don't quite know what to say. Did you kick him in the balls for his wife and soon to be baby? Next time, next time.

    Oooh - better yet, next time this happens, grab his cell phone, run into the ladies' room and dial his wife.

    Well, there better not be a next time...this is truly unusual. Wow!

    btw - thanks for linking us, you're so sweet :)


  24. This is what happens. Sad, really. A load of bad stuff. For some men, the deeply ingrained primate/mammal programming bubbles mercilessly to the forefront of behavior under the influence of alcohol. Our outdated biological impulse is such that we want to inseminate as many women as possible. This is absurd, of course, because we don’t want an army of babies. It’s stupid and irrational, and as compulsive as crying in movies or “addiction” to chocolate. I’m not saying I support the idiot, I’m just saying he has poor impulse control. Or the guy was just a shitheel. I probably know him. Say…where was this bar again?

  25. The thing that I find most fascinating about this story, is how much trouble he went to to butter you up to ask that question.

    My guess is that he's been successful in the past with similar stunts.

    I have always wondered what people say to each other to end up having a three way in a parking lot. Now I know.

  26. You know, the really sad part about this is that this story doesn't shock me.

    It just makes me shake my head sadly.


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