I was standing at the intersection near my apartment, waiting for the light to change. I’m autistic, and was flicking my fingers in front of me. I may have given the impression I was stoned.
A man walked up to me and asked, “Are you going to HempFest?”
I said, “No.”
“Do you want to go to HempFest?” he asked.
“No.”
“Let’s get coffee.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Well, you see, my therapist told me that when I met somebody I thought was attractive I should just go up to them and ask them out. I thought you seemed really nice and attractive. You don’t understand how big a step this is for me.”
“I see. Sorry, I’m not interested.” (There are so many ways I could have said, “Your therapist is wrong and you are creepy.” I did not feel safe enough to do any of them in the moment. I apologize if this makes me a Bad Feminist.)
“Well, I’m interested in doing anything outdoors.”
“I’m already in a relationship.”
He immediately got apologetic and said, “Sorry. I didn’t know. Have a great day!” He left right after that. Because my repeated statements that I was 100% not interested were obviously meaningless, so long as I’m designated Available.
– KA
Location: Seattle, WA, USA
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