When I drop guy friends off at home, I tend to just drive away. When I drop off a female friend, I sit in my car and watch her walk to the door and fumble for her keys. I don’t leave until her house swallows her up.
And what would happen if the unspeakable happened and some bad person actually jumped out of a bush and attacked her as she traversed the short distance from car to home? I think it’s pretty obvious. I’d spring from my car and do a flying kick, spinning madly around as I skillfully connected the tip of my foot with his solar plexus. An uppercut to the chin later, he’d be a crumpled heap on the sidewalk.
Fortunately, history has proven that fisticuffs are never going to be necessary; my searching, steady gaze is enough to keep the evildoers at bay. And then I drive home.
Posted by Greg at 04:44 AM. Filed under:
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consider this evildoer scared straight.
Are you sure that it wouldn’t be more of a ‘jam car into reverse slamming perp and victim through the stuccoed wall’ kind of event? Maybe you don’t really want to see after all.
I wait until they are inside, regardless of gender. Sometimes, the key doesn’t fit anymore.
The power of the GREG GAZE! Good stuff.
This is exactly why gaze should have full civil rights including marriage.
Is that why people wait? I always waited in case they had lost their keys.
OH MY GOD, DAN.
I usually wait until they get inside, turn on the light, and then tell me it’s okay to leave.
Now if they entered the house and found a miscreant waiting, I’d still pretty much just leave, because who are we kidding? I couldn’t defend you from marauding Mongols or whomever else, in this fantastical world where I drop women off at home.
I have a hard time believe these women don’t grab you by the lapels and drag you into their homes where they have their way with you again and again.
Maybe your gaze keeps them at bay too…
Dan, that was worth a kick to the solar plexus right there.
you sit in your car and watch?! where i come from a gentleman walks you to your door!
...and tries his best to get invited inside for nookie!
you should rethink your tactics.
Dan,
That was worth a good kick to the solar plexus. Gaze… har har.
not meaning to imitate Greg, as I realize it looks like now, I mean, I think Greg meant you deserve to be kicked, and I meant, yeah, but it was worth it to be kicked just for the opportunity to deal the pun… whatever. Just shoot me now
dan, that pun’s BADNESS just about ruined the sweetness of the whole post. grrrr.
and greg, that little cartoon image with the cape? not so far off the mark.
I always use this as a gauge between the keepers and the castoffs. It’s better than the unlock-the-drivers’ side-door thing from Singles.
Also, when I’m the one waiting, I wait on my male and female friends alike.
i’m a wait-er, too.
but i’m an equal opportunity wait-er. none of this girls only crap.
It’s not intended to be a sexist thing; I just feel that guys aren’t as likely to be attacked by someone lurking in the bushes. And if they are, they better be prepared to defend themselves in hand-to-hand combat. I don’t befriend pansies.
why can’t you let them get their own ride home? you could be in bed or something instead of being alone in the car admist miscreants and cretins.
I wait for everyone, male and female, to make it inside. I also watch my friends as they leave my house, to make sure they don’t get attacked and their car starts okay.
I’m a waiter, bur mainly for the same reasosn as Nikita. However, I’d like to think I could manage a passable Odd Job-esque high-heel-throwing effort if lurking villians emerged from the shrubbery.
So, am I the only one that gets a weird kind of performance anxiety when someone waits for me to get in safely? Like, “Oh crap, where are my keys, surely this doesn’t usually take this long, I am supporting the worst stereotypes of gender by fumbling around in my purse like this...oh my God. I have a PURSE. I am such a damn girl, even my high school self could kick my ass. No wonder this guy thinks I need to be protected while entering my house, what a loser...and I wonder how my butt looks right now?” And so on.
You would be surprised how many men don’t do this. The waiting part, not so much the ninja fighting thing.
I’ve always waited or walked girls to the door depending on what I thought my odds were of being invited inside.
Guys, they’re on their own as soon as the car door shuts. No way I’m taking a knife without the chance for some action.