9 jalapenos out of 10

I may or may not have just experienced the most awkward 15 minutes of my life.  I wished for an invisibility cloak, wished I could run away.  But instead, I was trapped, in Psych Central.

Boys are dense.  Really dense.  How many times have I come to this conclusion?  

There is a boy named Dan.  I met him last Fall semester in my Women's Studies class (there's a hint for ya-- he admitted to only taking the class to meet girls).  I have had constant and unwanted contact with him because of my requirement to "man" Psych Central for office hours.  He's creepy, really creepy, only he doesn't know he's creepy.  Thus he just digs himself deeper and deeper, until you may as well dump a coffin on his thick skull because there's no way he's getting resurrected out of that mess. 

He was asking about the confusion/lack of/pandemonium of my dating life-- our typical conversation now-a-days.  I expressed my intense desire to stop dating in general because a.) it's exhausting b.) it wastes the boys' time and money since I am clearly not interested and quite thoroughly in love with someone else and c.) I'm busy. {which while these are all very true and valid I have to put up my defenses around him, take on the attitude of feminist man-hater,  because, unless I blatantly say "I don't want to date anyone, especially you!", he will think that "no" means "yes" and "get lost" means "take me, I'm yours"-- quoting from lovely Meg in Hercules}

Well.  He got the gist of the facade of feminist man-hater {which is quite an easy cloak to don when you've taken a Women's Studies class}. But he continued on lamenting of why girl after girl turned him down or would stiffen after he asked if he could put his arm around him, and made several, several {did I mention several?} comments that either caused me to want to vomit or hide underneath my chair, including: 

           "You are like 9 jalapeno peppers out of 10"
           "You are one of the girls on my list that I wanted to ask out, but I understand your situation." {one other girl being a  gorgeous former cheerleader who just broke up with her boyfriend! Daniel, you've gotta learn where you fall in the scheme of things.  Don't be asking out "10"s when you yourself are... let's not get into that}
           "In Women's Studies, you were in the top 5 hottest girls in the class.  No joke."
            "I've always thought you were cute Becky.  Very cute."
           "You're in such great shape.  What are you, 135, 140?"
           "You're so awesome Becky." 
                 *THEN he sneaks up and gives me a side hug while I'm staring at the computer screen. AH! Personal bubble, please!

           Me: "Being an RM doesn't mean what it use to be.  There are several RM's I wouldn't be alone with"
           Dan: "Well I guess you trust me then, since we're alone"

       Umm... not quite.  More due to the fact that I'm assigned to be here and you've cornered me, awkwardly. 

Throughout our painful conversation I tried to be sympathetic but then it got to the point where I just wanted to die so I wouldn't have to endure his worries of, "I hate not being able to read people" {really? kinda like how you're creeping me out and you don't get it as I draw further and further away from you in my rolley-chair?} and "I just want to be in a relationship.  I need dating experience".   Then maybe you should stop hitting on Freshman babies! His follow-up: "You know it's bad when the girls who shouldn't know better still say 'no'."  Wow.  Wh-oa-aow.

I gathered my things up, saying I had to visit teach.
"Oh great, I'll walk you home then.  I think we live close"
"Oh, it's only 3?  I thought it was 3:30.  I should stay and do some more research."

Whew! Escaped out of that one.  Barely.  I think he got that I was trying to end our encounter.

Question: Did someone inconspicuously place a neon sign on my back or install a magnet in my spinal chord to attract anything creepy and male that moves? or do men just discombobulate the vibes of "get away from me" to "please, I'm begging you, hit on me profusely"? 

I seriously wonder.  Gosh.  Some days I just wish I didn't have to encounter the opposite sex.  I will don the feminist man-hater cloak any day of the week if it means I can escape being trapped in Psych Central, alone, with Dan.