Bitchfaces, how goes it? Fantastic. I wish I could say the same, but I’ve had some fuckery decide to set itself afoot.
Allow me to digress.
So, today, I had Instacart come because Pet Supermarket is 4,000 miles from the house, I had work to do, and Puffin likes to lay in mounds of dirt to see just what I’ll take before someone has to call Sarah McLaughlin to come sing this bitch a sad song because I’m going to fucking abuse her.
God, what a bitch.
Anyway, Instacart. Saving me hours of shopping, and also some money they say, but that’s a damned lie. Doesn’t matter, my time is valuable, I’ll pay for it. I order Puffins bitch ass topical, a pupcake to lure her to the bath, and her $7,000 bag of fucking food she likes to ignore until she’s positive I’m not giving her anything else until she eats it.
I’m watching the delivery driver progress in the app, so I’m shocked as shit that he’s standing outside not a foot from the door when I open it. And then it happens.
The fucking look.
He went from regular guy to a fucking starving cannibal in an eye blink. If you are a woman, you know just what I am saying. I went from being a delivery customer to prey.
He held my gaze too long, still with that same look, some sneer/smirk on his face as he literally sized me up. So I opened the fucking door and let Puffin out. Because fuck you. I want you to be aware that she’s aware of how I feel about you.
Still, the audacity of this motherfucker. He was still over the shoulder eyeballing me recklessly as Puffin was losing her fucking mind. Like, bruh, I see you trying to intimidate me, and it won’t fucking happen today.
I was so relieved when I was back inside with the door locked, though. And it shook me, a lot really. To the point I sent a safety message: “If I’m murdered tonight, it was the Instacart driver”.
I was only half-joking.
That’s a lie. I wasn’t joking at all.
I know what that look means. I’ve had bad things happen where that look has been involved, and I won’t be showering or sleeping until the sun is up. Because I’m that shook.
Men of that size are normally very mindful of how nervous it makes people. Huggie Bear, for one, always gives you an additional foot or two of space, because he knows how intimidating he is. Most guys that big do. When they don’t, they mean to frighten you. They’re not oblivious, they’ve been that big for some years.
Men pushing into my personal space is something that sets my PTSD alarms off, and makes me instantly ball my fists and look for something to bust a head with. I don’t want a man brushing up on me, grabbing my arm, sniffing my fucking hair, none of that. Don’t try to intimidate me, don’t get in my space, and certainly don’t reckless fucking eyeball me.
My alarms were at 5 and rising, y’all. And fuck that.
Yes, I’m aware not every guy is out to hurt women. But the sorry motherfuckers who are make it up in spades for those of y’all who aren’t. Believe it.
That’s all. If something goes wrong, check my Instacart app. It was definitely that dude.
-Q
Nope. Not a bit offended... Except by these fuckwits who are the entire damned reason I advocate for women in particular to have a .40 handy.
Had a similar one bust into my front door thinking I wasn't home. I came down the stairs with my baby 2# fireman hatchet whooping and hollering like the Johnny Blue I am as I charged him aiming for his scalp.
He left at high speed with eyes the size of saucers.
He may still be running for all I know. I definitely made him rethink his choice of profession though.
I'm 6' and about 190 male.
I can't imagine what it's like for a gal in similar.
I get most of my groceries, etc. delivered. I just have them leave deliveries at the door so I never have to deal with this kind of fear. Introvert? Certainly? Cautious? Oh, sweetheart, to the point of paranoia. There are reasons for it, as you well know. Better safe than sorry... or too dead to regret the choice you made.