The Cupcake Analogy

Spatula, bless her, has come up with the perfect analogy to describe the clueless Invasion of Boundaries that frequently occurs, in this postmodern dating debacle:

Another man greeted my arrival in his car by putting his hand on the inside of my leg. This was our second date, and he had known me for a combined total of three hours, none of which included any physical contact. He felt up my leg at regular intervals all through the evening, and when I covered it with a bag, he would feel up the bag.

Men: imagine this. You are holding a cupcake. You are thinking of sharing it with someone. You stand around trying to decide who. Suddenly, a random person walks into the room, says, "Awesome! Thanks!", yanks it out of your hands and eats it. That's what it's like.

The cupcake is sweet; who can blame you for wanting it? But here's the thing: it isn't yours. It isn't yours until the cupcake owner says very clearly and in your direction, "Would you like some of this? It will be my heart's delight, my infinite pleasure, my happiness to share it with you." Then, and only then, is the cupcake up for grabs. You'll know you did it right if the lady breaks off a piece, puts it in your mouth, and lets you lick her fingers.

Pretty Lady recalls, in her college days, when masculine acquaintances of hers would stop by her apartment for a chat. Uninvited, they would wander into her bedroom and declare, "So! This is your bedroom!" in a proprietary sort of way.

Not only did these men never receive another invitation--not only to her bedroom, but into any of her dwelling spaces--she did an art project about it, entitled 'Uncertainty,' which involved a gnarled mobile-like construction, dripping used motor oil all over a bedframe which was covered in pristine white dust. Passersby thought it was about abortion, which, tangentially, perhaps it was.

Sometimes Pretty Lady thinks that all this crude, clueless cupcake-yanking has its roots in the indefatigable optimism of testosterone, which runs on its own engine independently of feedback, including feedback such as "You couldn't get me drunk enough to sleep with you, jerk." Other times she thinks that most people were simply Born In Barns, and need a remedial course in basic etiquette, as well as signal-reading. Very occasionally, she suspects that such crass behavior is perpetrated by men who are attempting to come across as Dominant, and haven't quite gotten it down.

Regardless, she will provide a single Clue, for free; that is, when a lady to whom you are attracted, and have made clear signals toward, starts avoiding all contact with you--including not returning your phone calls, switching cafés so that she doesn't have to deal with you, and moving without providing her new address--YOU HAVE CROSSED THE LINE. Moreover, you have crossed it in such as way as to make amelioration of the situation utterly impossible. Whatever it is you did, DON'T DO IT AGAIN, with ANY other lady.