The Decoy

Compliments are nice; a girl likes a little positive feedback once in awhile. But, there’s a big difference between “excuse me, I know it’s none of my business, but you have nice legs,” and “hey, how are you? can I get your number? maybe I can call you sometime. when are you free?”

Sometimes, a girl just reaches a breaking point. For me, that breaking point was when I was walking past a guy and his two kids pushing a shopping cart in the super market. The dad told the kids to go back by their mom and then tried to holler. Umm.. no. That’s it. This has got to stop. So I have a decoy.

Sitting on my dresser, in its small black box was an old diamond ring from a previous life. I kept it there with a ticket stub from Blood Diamond to remind me of the things other people sacrifice so we can live our lives of privilege. I hope the gentleman that gave it to me will forgive me for wearing it again, but that diamond ring is now on my left hand. And so far, it seems to be working!

I’ve been able to ride BART and the bus without anyone hollerin'. I did get a few comments walking from the ICP concert to the club where I met my roommate, but I realized my hand was covered up. And at the club, boy was I happy to have that ring.

Mr. Trizzle says he doesn’t even notice it, but I think things are different when you’re at a club or trying to holler. In those instances, your looking for clues, hints that let you know if the person is available or not. (Most of the time, not always.) So even though Mr. Trizzle and other people I see frequently might not notice, people at the club certainly did.

One guy I was dancing with asked, “where’s your husband?” I just smiled and said, “not here.” (Not exactly a lie, but not giving me away.) He walked away! Awesome. Another guy I was dancing with asked if I left my man at home. Someone else made a comment too, but I forgot what it was.

I managed to leave the club having danced with more people than I could count. I think my decoy contributed to that because it made it more likely I’d find the people who were just there to dance instead of the people who were trying to get someone to take home and would pick a target, pounce, and not let go.

We stayed at the club until closing (my roommate managed to lose his glasses off his face without realizing it and we had to wait ‘til the lights were on to look for the glasses, which we didn’t find.) I left without having given anyone my number or having anyone buy me a drink. I was very proud. My roommate was annoyed and said I was again being the epitome of everything he hates about women. Good.

The best part of the club was the guy who tried to buy me a drink. I had already ordered my water when he sauntered over to the bar. Seeing that the bartender was getting me something, he said, “make it 2” and tried to pay. I gave the bartender her tip and walked away chuckling as she tried to explain to the guy that there was nothing to pay for because it was just water. She was still trying when I came back for my refill. The guy was befuddled. I was highly amused.

The club was great, and my little decoy is making traveling around the Bay and going out much more bearable. It sure beats dressing skuzzy, which I was starting to think might be my next option.

(By the way, I think the only reason I attract more attention here than I’m used to is because I stick out above the tops of most crowds. I’m taller than the average out here and, unlike pretty much everyone else, I wear heels all the time.)