So one of us was on a date one night. It was a while ago, but in the interest of privacy we’ll keep it vague and the narration omniscient. She was on a date and the date activity was actually one that she’d been wanting to have with a date, ANY date, for years—go to a playground at night and like, whatever, do monkey bars and make out on the swings. Maybe she watched too much Buffy, remember how Buffy and Angel were always like lurkily meeting up after dark in playgrounds? And it was totally fine because even though they usually got accosted by vampires Buffy (AND Angel) both knew crazy martial arts and kicked ass? Yeah, I forgot about that part. So the date was going pretty well. Our fair hero scored some free dessert at Whole Foods, courtesy of being a pretty girl, they took it to the park, ate, played around, and were having a discussion on the swings that our game-impaired protagonist was totally hoping would end in some sweet makeout action. I forget what it was about.
Some dudes walked by. I’m not sure if it’s relevant to mention that Hero and Date are both conventionally hot babes who by heterosexist standards should only be in a park after dark accompanied by a male boyfriend or other chaperone-y personage, and maybe not even then.
So obviously they were looking for some male attention, being all out in a park without men. I mean, maybe the whole thing was a bad idea, probably? But at the time she was seriously living the dream and actually a little bit dizzy from proximity to this amazing amazing person: Date (hereafter to be referred to as Leander, since, let’s just go all the way with this). It was hard to breathe. The whole thing was very sweet and maybe romantic, or could have been, had it not been for the approaching presence of the dudes.
Despite a deep-seated longing to be optimistic and hopeful, Hero tensed up. “You all smoke weed?” the guys asked.
“No.” Hero said firmly.
The dudes seemed content with this answer, smoked the weed themselves, fucked around for a while. It was super annoying since Hero had not yet figured out how to put the moves on Leander and anyway, however calm the guys on the basketball court were being, the sight of two girls making out on a swingset was sure to be blood in the water for them. The great question: Should she quit while ahead or hold out for the dream? Hero opted for optimism again, thus this entry. She was going to wait those motherfuckers OUT. Surely they would get munchies and go home!
They did not. She waited too long, and even without the sight of two pretty girls on a swingset making out, the guys were irresistably compelled to walk closer. It’s a truth universally acknowledged that two pretty, unaccompanied girls must be in want of a man. If not two men. I mean, right?
They walked closer. “Hey, are you all Russian? Are you like speaking Russian or something?” Hero blinked. He continued, “You all are like, lesbian, bisexual, or Ukrainian. I can tell. Are you lesbian, bisexual, or Ukrainian?” (I am not even making this up although it's the kind of line that is so ridiculous and yet spot on with my own monomania that it would be pardonable to assume I did)
Hero gave a gasp of laughter. Leander looked blankly unamused. Hero tried to control her unfortunately encouraging reaction. “We’re having a private conversation.”
“That’s okay,” the other guy said. “You can have it in Russian.”
Despairing of ever getting to make out again, and getting increasingly stressed out, Hero increased her volume and added force. “We do not want to talk to you. We’re talking to each other.” (“Lesbian, bisexual, or Ukrainian?” her brain belatedly echoed. “Wtf?”)
The guys circled the swingset. "Why don't you two want to talk to us? Do you want to make out? You should make out right now. Yeah, you should!" It crossed Hero’s mind that her Buffy-inspired daydream of romantic playground date was a deeply stupid daydream that she should have tried to make happen during actual day (altho—kids) or just kept as a daydream, because, what if her stupid idea got them both assaulted?
It took far too long, many moments of arguing that ruined the moment, and by the time the guys finally backed off and left, Hero and companion took it as a sign and decided not to press their luck, they left before anyone else could happen along.
On the way home, Date wondered if the guys, both much taller and in general larger than H&L, fully understood how intimidating their persistent attention and invasion of space was. “Sometimes they just don’t get it. Sometimes they’re stoned and having bad boundaries—”
“—and sometimes they’re genuinely terrifying.”
