The Fastest Way To Turn Me Off

22 Oct

Day 41 of the 90 in 90 blog challenge.

The fastest way to turn me off is to have a piece of your lunch stuck in the space between your big tooth and the next one over. You HAVE to know it’s there. It’s just…so big. And it’s just… staring at me. You’re talking and making jokes and trying to make me laugh, and I’m smiling and nodding because I feel like I have to, when I’m really trying to figure out if you ate a hamburger or a brownie. I actually feel guilty, because you, my good sir, have poor dental hygiene. Do you understand that? YOU are making me feel guilty for YOUR oral shortcomings. (…That’s what she said….) No but really… it is.

The fastest way to turn me off is to not open the door for me. Why wouldn’t you do that? Like, why not? That’s like, How To Be A Gentleman, Chapter One. No, screw that, that’s not even IN the book because it’s just expected. Did some crazy woman in your past smack you across the face after you opened the door for her, screaming “I CAN OPEN MY OWN DOOR!” and abandon you in the doorway of Applebee’s? Because I’m pretty sure no one ever did that to you. I’m a fast walker, and I’m not going to do the whole “I’m going to walk slowly to time this out correctly so that you get to the door before I do, or at least we arrive at the same time…” thing. You are five inches taller than me. Your legs are at least three inches longer than mine. Keep up, and open the door. Please.

Maybe the fastest way to turn me off is to burp and blow it in my face and laugh and think that that’s flirting. It’s not flirting. That’s disgusting. Especially after you’ve eaten three hotdogs. With relish.

Or, you can turn me off when you scratch your sweaty armpit and then scratch your nose absentmindedly two minutes later.

When you don’t tell me I look nice after I’ve spent TWO HOURS of my LIFE getting ready, well- that kind of makes me want to scream, “DONT YOU EVEN CARE THAT I HAVE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO WEAR EYELINER AND HEELS IN THE SAME DAY?!?”

I get turned off when you brush my leg and say “Ooo! Babe! …That’s prickly!” Okay look… I can’t just have my legs feeling silky smooth at every moment that I’m in your masculine presence. I am a human being, and I have hair, and I get goosebumps sometimes…just like you. I shaved last night. What more do you want from me?!

Also, I get turned off when you call me “babe.” It makes me feel like you call everyone that, and I don’t want to be your “everyone.”

I get turned off when you ruffle my hair. Yeah, sure, it’s cute but… I spent at least seven minutes meticulously placing every hair to hide my split ends and frizz. I’m going to need you to find a different way to flirtatiously tease me.

I get turned off when you haven’t read Harry Potter. And I’m not even going to apologize for that. Those were the books of our generation. If you haven’t read them, I judge you. And! If you did read them and you just “didn’t like them,” well… then we’re not going to be going on a second date, now are we? Nooo.

I get turned off when you don’t like fishing. I blame my father for this. But I won’t apologize for it, either.

I get turned off when you don’t like dragons. Dragons are probably the most bad ass mythical creature of any mythical creature… except for maybe griffins. And even still, a dragon could kill a griffin in like, one second.  If you don’t like mythical creatures, I question you. I question your manhood when you are indifferent towards dragons.

I get turned off when you quote every funny line of every funny movie you’ve ever seen in a ten minute period. I get it- you like funny movies. But they’re not as funny when you’re saying the lines. Keep the funny stick in your pants, Boso.

I’m turned off when you don’t say “bless you” when I sneeze. I know that’s ridiculous, but what am I supposed to do if you don’t say “bless you?” Just sneeze all over myself and proclaim “Bless me?!” That feels very strange. And yes, saying “bless you” after sneezing is an ancient social habit, originating from early peoples thinking that sneezing was the devil coming out of you. I know it’s stupid. But the only thing that’s more stupid than this ancient human habit is me being forced to bless myself. Just… don’t make me do it.

I’m turned off when you engage in conversation with my breasts, instead of my face. My lips are the ones speaking. If you’re not going to look in my eyes, at least look at my lips. They’re moving. And forming words. My boobs can’t form words. They’re pretty cool, I know, I live with them every day. But when it comes to doing tricks, they can’t do that. I promise.

I get turned off when you laugh too loudly at a quiet restaurant, like you’ve got to prove to us, and to the people around us, that we’re having a good time. If we’re having a good time, I think we’ll both know. Heck, and if you’re not sure, I’ll let you know! I’ll brush your ankle with my foot or something, I promise. Just… stop scream-laughing at the family of four behind us. Please.

I get turned off when you haven’t played Skyrim. (Again, this goes back to the dragon thing.) I get even MORE turned off if you’re playing and you don’t offer to let ME play. I like watching better, I promise. But I like when you at least offer me a chance to show my village slaughtering skills with an axe blade, okay? That’s romance right there.

I don’t like it when you don’t like animals. I actually question if you have a soul when you avoid cats and dogs. If you can’t see yourself owning pets, I can’t see myself saying, “I do.” That’s just the way it is.

There are plenty of other turn offs. But these are probably the biggest ones.

 

 

 

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