I understand (kind of) that you live a lonely, deserted life with no women who care about you. This may be why you think it’s perfectly acceptable to creep random women out in public places. I’d like you to know, it’s not. It’s not acceptable to talk to women (namely, me) in airports (or restaurants, or grocery stores, or banks, or medical offices, or anywhere) about their knee-high black leatherÂ boots, which you apparently think are “sexy.”
It’s not acceptable to say things like “I bet you wear those to places other than work,” or “I’d like to see those boots in action,” or even, at this point, a simple “I like your boots.” Your mindset shows on your face. Also, the only “action” you’d get to see would be my boots’ stiletto heels stabbing you in the eyeball.
My black boots do not make me kinky, outgoing, or sexually attracted to you in any way. EVER. So trying to start up an innocent conversation about the weather in order to later work in a comment about the boots is also unacceptable — and pathetic. You’re not that sly, man.
My black boots are not a sex prop. My wedding ring is not a fake. Please assume neither. Also, it is not ever okay to ask me when I was married, and then longingly (while practically drooling) comment that you “wish you’d met me before I got married.” I can assure you, it wouldn’t have mattered. I have standards, you know.
Attempting to talk to me about my boots from THREE rows back in the airplane I’m in is also not a good idea, and completely weird. No, the club patches on your motorcycle jacket don’t help. Neither does your long scraggly hair.
Being so adamant to tell me you like my boots that you’ll motion for me to take my ipod earbuds out of my ear is just ridiculous. How did you really think I’d respond to that? “Oh, thanks mister creepypants, I didn’t like that song anyway… oh you like my boots? Awesome, let me strip for you…”
NO. Just NO.
And while we’re at it, pausing at my lunch table at Chili’s in Fairbanks while I’m dining with a man (my boss) to tell me that my boots are incredibly sexy is a TERRIBLE IDEA that may next time get you tabasco sauce in your creepy wandering eyes. That’s right, I saw you wait for your wife to walk ahead of you before you chester-molestered your way over to my tableÂ while heading in the direction of the restroom. That’s just gross, man. Just gross.
And one last thing. DON’T. EVER. EEEEEVVVVVEEERR. TOUCH. MY. BOOTS. The next time you think it might be a good idea to come over and STROKE MY BOOT while I’m reading WILL NOT END WELL FOR YOU. I was just too stunned this time to throw my book at you and scratch your eyes right the hell out of your disgusting creepy face. You could have just ASKED me what it was made out of. I still would have ignored you and muttered “ew” a little loudly under my breath, but still, you could’ve just asked. Did you WANT to give me nightmares?
In conclusion… please cease being creepy. And stop thinking about my boots.
Happily Married Young Beautiful Boots Girl Who Would Never In A Million Years Sleep With You