It’s been over a year, I was thinking about the people I used to talk to and slog through conversations with in the struggle to not be single and find a serious and committed relationship. I thought about this a while ago and I couldn’t remember this one dude, like all I remember is him talking about Dolly Alderton and us meeting at a very cool cafe which I liked a lot but I think my life was falling apart so I was a little distracted. Then I remembered, I don’t know how, and I looked at his story. like weeks ago, and then you know how Instagram does that thing where you searched for one person now they always come up? Yeah it did that and I had a mooch. Nothin much was adoin’, I knew whose profile I was looking at. Go figure. Anyway this elbow crease messages me and whatever I’ll just post the conversation. I posted it wrong no one reads this anyway but the messages are backwards. second one is first.
- Sir, you are 42, I need you to calm down.
- Bit entitled ennit bab.
- I honestly don’t know why I thought I’d extend the courtesy of being nice to you, especially after you were particularly inflammatory and reactionary when you caught any wiff of my political inclinations. But I was nice, I don’t have anything against you. To be honest I probably felt a bit bad for you.
- This is why women don’t owe niceness to anyone, because niceness doesn’t save you.
- I wish that being a stalker didn’t mean a death sentence for women but here we are, being flippant and arrogant. I’m going to quote my friend J here who said “White women can call themselves nosey because they don’t have a habit of stabbing their targets to death like white men do.” And again just for emphasis, I watched your story. Once, maybe? Obviously now I’m doing it to annoy you. I’m gonna go out of my way to remind you that I exist.
- Bit presumptuous ay it? Just because I have watched your Instagram story my (serious and committed) relationship is on the rocks.
- You think I’d come to you, my relationship is on the rocks and it’s you that I’d come crawling back to. You, the middle age white man with a peppered beard with the personality of a self-entitled mop. Oh yes! James! James! We went on maybe two dates? I say maybe because they are so unforgettable! The chemistry, the conversation it was so off the wall!! I can barely contain myself thinking about that god awful kiss we had I think once where I literally had to leave because I felt sick at the thought of doing it again. Yes, James, it’s you!!!! All this time, all this distance between us (stay in London you absolute unsalted stick of butter) made no difference! I WANT YOU! I NEED YOU! Oh baby, it’s always been you, man I have met maybe three times. I honestly can’t remember, I was fucking someone else and that took up a lot of my time.
- You started the conversation, you fucking incel.
- If conversation equals wanting to fuck, then you a grossly misled on the ways of the world and I pray for literally any womxn you encounter.
- This is the guy who told me not to see another guy because he was older (same age – 42) and was taking advantage of me. Is it because you’re jealous the other guy actually had a career? One that involved fame and touring the world not just your fetishised version of Asia? What is it, dear? I’d like to know. (I wouldn’t, fuck off.)
PIP 