There are definitely points in time in my life where I just want to turn around, bitch slap someone and say “what the fuck”. Especially to my neighbor.
Ever since he’d moved in next door he’s been oogling me to the point of even trying to make a go for my pants. Not that I didn’t look when he first moved in (before he acquired a beer belly and a disturbing red beard), I did. But I was also desperate (very). I hadn’t had much (any) male contact for about two years which had been even remotely similar to dating.
When I had started going out with guys again, he took notice. By that time I had definitely lost interest in my not so hot neighbor. However, he’d watch my dates walk me up to my porch after our date (or in some cases see the pathetic jerks drive off). Then take that as his que to launch right in through text message, calling, or sometimes catching me unawares while I’d be out going to my car or collecting mail. Poor fool for not realizing I wasn’t interested. And I, not having the heart to tell him off, just tried avoiding him.
He was fairly persistent though, especially when I’d been dating Air Force Fag. He could have seen us together and by time Air Force Fag had driven off, I’d be getting invited next door. He didn’t think it was a problem I had a boyfriend. He just wanted to have a little fun with no strings attached.
No strings attached you say Not So Hot neighbor? Well aren’t you just a barrel of laughs. Being the type of person I am, I could never cheat. Even if I knew a relationship would never last. And if I were to be tempted to cheat, wouldn’t I want it to be with somebody remarkably better looking? With somebody who had a bit more to talk about than weed, baseball and hockey? I am more content at the moment with sitting and talking with my fiancé about absolutely nothing and watch him pick his nose, than sit there with my neighbor and talk about that crap. I have almost no interest in sports and I hate drugs. I’m pretty sure that would cut down the topics of conversation.
Even when he has been told off, he just hangs out on the sidelines, still watching me wash my car or do yard work. Occasionally he’d text message me, which is somewhat easy to ignore.
I guess I just don’t understand how many times you need to tell a person no in order for them to get the picture and just move on. It's not that I play hard to get; I don't. I play 'I'm off limits, don't touch me.'