boy car

Hi, there!  My name is Tailfeather, and if you were wondering how not to pick me up, I have some handy tips for you!  Sometimes making kissy-face at me while I try to fill up my car with gas isn’t enough; sometimes it’s not sufficient to insult my accent and then try to grab my ass ten minutes later at a bar.  Sometimes, you really need to pull out all the stops in order to really, really not pick me up.  If you have no interest in intimacy, conversation, or sexual relations with me, here are some ways to go about it!:

1)  You can successfully not pick me up at 3:45 am on a night bus when I am going home from a club.  While it is creepy enough to slide into the seat next to me on a nearly deserted bus, it is even creepier to try to engage me in conversation when I am actively wrapping my arms around my purse (and my personhood!) and actually feigning unconsciousness.  This is a legitimate sign that I am unreceptive and will not be proposing that you accompany me home for intercourse.  Well done, especially if I have to feign waking up so that I can go stand beside the bus driver with my keys in my fist and a mobile phone in the other hand, in case you try to follow me.  You have done very well in not picking me up.

2)  Another good way to not pick me up is to stop me in the street on my way to work in the morning and pretend that I look familiar, and that perhaps we have met at a party before.  Given that I am a foreigner without much of a social life, this is extremely unlikely and I will know that you are lying.  Even if you are well-dressed and generally respectable-looking, cornering me in front of a McDonald’s and insisting I take your number will definitely ensure that I will decide you are a crazy person, particularly when I tell you my name and you produce a rambling story about how well my name matches your name and perhaps it is meant to be that we are standing on this street corner arguing about our definitive non-acquaintance.  The fact that you will make me late for work while I desperately try to disengage will also factor strongly into your apparent desire to prevent me from ever providing you with oral pleasure, even in a last-humans-on-Earth scenario. 

When I tell you, politely as possible, that I am in a relationship and have no need for the phone number you have scrawled on twelve inches of shiny receipt paper from the McDonald’s till, and you suggest that perhaps I could still call you if I ever just wanted to talk, it is quite certain that I will take said paper to my workplace and deposit it in the shredder (to recycle!).  When you yell after me down the street that I am beautiful as I scurry away, I will not turn around and fling myself into your arms, rom-com style, but call my boyfriend immediately and tell him that I love him and I am in a bad mood because some lumpy-headed man in an expensive suit made me late for the office.

3)  One of the best ways to not pick me up is to follow me down the street, hanging out of the window of your friend’s car, calling, “GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER” at me as I pretend I do not hear you.  Repeating this catchphrase approximately 50 times, until I turn around and shriek, “NO!” is a really effective method of guaranteeing that I will not only not provide you with my number, but I will also not get in your car and accompany you to your mother’s house/crack den/sex-slave emporium for carnal pusuits.  If, after two blocks of “GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER,” you pull to the side of the road and prepare to exit the car, you are likely fortunate that I sprint across the street against traffic rather than beating your face in with my high-heeled shoe.  You, Sir, have done a tremendous job of not picking me up.

So, how ’bout it, ladies?  I expect there are some really special ways I could fail to pick you up, and I’d love to hear them.

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