So, in starbucks today, a random guy came up to my and told me I was very pretty and nice eyes.
And, as a feminist, I was okay with it.
Because he did it correctly.
He stood four feet away from me and started out with “excuse me” and waited until I nodded before approaching. He then introduced himself and we shook hands and then he gave a compliment and went on his way.
He didnt catcall. He didnt harass. He didnt use inappropriate language. He asked for permission.
Take note, gentlemen.
i just loved the fact that he actually WAITED for her CONSENT
BEFORE approaching her
and not only that
he didn’t sexualize her
i mean
finally, someone gets it
To the morons that say it can’t be done. Mmhmm… We aren’t saying we don’t like compliments. We’re saying we don’t like being harressed, we don’t like being cat-called, we don’t like to be treated like we’re an object…
A very nice veteran and I had a nice conversation before I went into the store to do my shopping (he was selling things for a veteran charity), and when I came out he gave me a faux rose and told me how it made his day to talk to a very nice and pretty young lady. This my dears is a gentleman. This made my day. I still have this flower about four years later. DO IT RIGHT.
And approaching someone politely and introducing yourself is so important.
I have some issues with men I don’t know very well interacting with me. But one of my most cherished memories–the one I go back to when I’m having a terrible day or when I decide that men are all pure evil–is of this time I was working at a drink stand at a festival. I looked like a goddamn mess, dressed in a bright green stock volunteer shirt after three hours standing in a food tent. This guy, a few years older than me, came up to me, introduced himself, remarked that he worked on one of the rides up the hill, and asked if he could have a coffee. He talked to me like a competent adult, helped me clean up his coffee like a champ when I was a clumsy-ass fucker and knocked it over, told me a few jokes at his own expense to make me feel better after the coffee thing, and then went “You know, I just wanted to tell you that you really made my day.” And I’m awkward as hell, so I kind of laughed and went “You must need better days.” I expected him to chuckle and leave it at that, so imagine my surprise when instead he looked genuinely upset and protested “No, really, I came down here for coffee and instead I met a great girl.” He remarked on how smart and funny he thought I was and added that I was so gorgeous I even made the volunteer shirt look good. He asked me out, I had to say no because I was about to leave for college, and he just shrugged, smiled, and said “Take it as a compliment then, beautiful.” I never saw him again, and he probably doesn’t remember that I exist, never mind imagining for a second how much that meant to me, someone with four sexual assaults under my belt by that point. He was complimentary, funny, well-mannered, and above all he was respectful. At no point did I feel threatened by him or his interest, nor did I ever feel like he would become angry or violent when I turned him down.
That was two years ago.
If I ever have kids, or my friends ever have kids, that’s the story I’m going to tell them when they ask what a good guy acts like. Not a nice guy–a GOOD one.