The Culture of Creepy: An unfortunate Digression.

I'm sorry to interrupt my normally semi astute observations on architecture, books, bathtubs, design and all things awesome. I will get back to those very soon.

But I have to say this. There's no other way to put this out there into the universe.

And so I must.

Gentlemen, if you think that a woman at the bar, in the club or in the grocery store is attractive and you think that you'd might like to get to know her, please, for the love of all that is good and right in the world, simply walk up to her and say hello.

You don't need a pick up line. You don't need to insult her. But you do need to say something.

If you stare and point and talk about her with your friends, she will get creeped the hell out.

I am pretty sure about this one.

Last night, I was with two friends waiting for some more friends to meet us at a certain Irish bar in Chinatown. A group of very attractive women were behind us at another table. And for an hour and thirty minutes, three men stood and stared at the women behind us talking about which one they "could get away from the group and meet."

Creep #1: The blonde. The blonde. I can get her.

Creep #2: Yeah. She's hot. Get on that.

Creep #3: Mumble mumble.

Meanwhile, another guy walks up and starts entertaining all of the attractive women. He makes them laugh, asks them questions and starts paying attention to one of the women in particular. He gave the other men an opening.

Did they take this opening?

No.

Instead the creepy men continued to stare, stare and stare again with faces like serial killers. I, for one, was uncomfortable, and I was just a tired, old, bystander.

I recalled the days when I actively went to bars to hang out and flirt with boys (yeah. it was last week, but that's beside the point right now), and I would be very uncomfortable if someone stared at me for a while before saying something. For some reason, I just felt like the chances of ending up in the trunk of a car were upped because of the creepy factor and I would not end up talking to someone who might otherwise be a nice fellow.

So, stop being creepy, gentlemen at Irish bar in Chinatown. Just go up to the ladies and say hello. If they aren't interested, they'll let you know.

And this doubly applies to salesmen at a certain mall in Virgina who felt the need to chase me and a certain attractive blonde down into Nordstrom's because he thought he could creep us out enough to get us to buy his shoddy products.

If we're not interested in what you're selling, we let you know.