They Can't All Be Rapists And Idiots

I was looking through a bin of books outside the thrift shop the other day when I heard someone talking to me. I looked up, and a guy with a mohawk and a loud neon green shirt was asking me how I was. "Great, thank you," I smiled, and went back to looking at the books.
About a minute later, I heard his voice again. He was driving through the parking lot, and stopped to get my attention. "I just wanna tell you that I think you're really beautiful," he said.
My mind flashed back to my coworker at my first job, who had said I was cute, tried to kiss me...and years later I found out he was a wanted sex offender.
"Oh. Thank you."
He drove off, much to my relief. I didn't have to make a decision either way.
You should have given him your number, a voice in my head said to me, he seemed nice.
No, I thought. He was too confident, way too smooth--just like you-know-who.
I wondered if I was being fair to him. A part of me had been flattered, had wanted to believe he was nice, had wanted to oblige him. But I was halfway uncomfortable with his forwardness, and something in his manner.
Did I want to give him my number, I wondered? No, I thought. Tell him you already have someone. Hurt his feelings, he'll get over it. But don't hurt yourself.
I thought I had learned my lesson from my experience with my first job, but writing about it (see a previous post, "The Movie-Cliche Rapist," and the next post, "Magical Superpowers," for more on the story and my views of intuition and the survival instinct) had really hammered the lesson home: I was to be guided by my intuition, not by my "niceness." If someone made me uncomfortable, I was to throw him away.
It's a hard habit to break, though, not being nice.
Later the clerk at the convenience store starting talking to me. He seemed nice, and did not make me at all uncomfortable. Yet somehow he seemed not confident or exciting enough. I thanked him and left.
See? I thought to myself. I told you my intuition was magic!
You're too picky, my inner critic said. You can't expect everyone to be like Ben*. Not even Ben is like Ben anymore.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I thought. I'm an introvert, I don't like dates. To my inner critic, it sounded like a lame excuse, but I knew I didn't want to risk it being otherwise. I guess when you're in love, all you see are rapists and idiots.


*Ben is the Christian boy I have not seen in a long time but still (sometimes) have feelings for. Please see some previous posts, "Crushing On A Christian, Part 1 of 2" and "Crushing On A Christian, Part 2 of 2."

Update: My feelings for Ben have changed. See the later posts, "Crushing On A Christian...No Longer," and "Left For A Loaf, Or Waiting For The 'Next' Guy," to see what happened.

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