Ready for a change.

by , under personal, Pirate

Me today. This is me. Today.

I have a long history of weirdness going on with trips to the bank. Where people tend to flirt with me. It all started with a female teller who slipped me her number, and then the next week I had a five minute conversation with a guy about my writing. And it just kept happening. Not just tellers.

Anyways, today I walked into the bank and the only teller set up (a guy) told me that he could help me fill out my deposit slips. I said no, because I’m a bit of a control freak when it comes to double checking account numbers. I signed a check, filled them out… and by that time another teller was there.

“No, I saw her first,” Teller One hissed at Teller Two. Not in the I-have-a-quota-to-meet way, but in a I’m-calling-dibs way.

And so I sort of did this.

derek hale ragepout

But less adorable, I hope. The sad thing is, that it worked. The instant I stopped smiling and having a generally good morning (which it was up until then), he started treating me professionally and less like a prize.

But yes, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m going to a different branch… because I’m tired of it. I’m a friendly person. I don’t generally flirt with people (there was the barista I accidentally flirted with, but I was drunk with power from the idea of being Loki and didn’t realize it until I was in the midst of it), I’m usually just polite. But somehow it’s consistently being interpreted as flirting. And I’m sick of it.

Because people are creepy. And that’s coming from the woman who as an 18 year old called dibs on the man she’d eventually marry. But that was a comment between friends, about a guy that I literally didn’t think I’d see again, and had forgotten said dibs by the time I actually met him. When I did meet him and hoped he was flirting with me, I was also ridiculously shy

I either get some entirely inappropriate comment (like the guy behind me in line who commented on my ass to his friend) or it’s being chatted up even though I’m wearing a wedding ring. I know that I look young, but honestly, it’s bizarre how few guys check my ring finger first. And if they’re ignoring it, well that’s just creepier.

While I do realize that I inadvertently created a boob window with my scarf and tank top today, but that doesn’t mean that I’m there to be flirted with or gawked at. I’m just there to deposit a check.

And I really wish I could say that this is an isolated incident. I’m grateful that this is as bad as it gets (though mostly, I think that it’s because the bank is one of the few places I go on my own where I don’t have a cart in front of me or my headphone in). But I’m a person, and I shouldn’t have to glare to get people to leave me alone or change bank branches in the hopes that there are men who are better behaved.