The Creeps

Caitlin was looking fantastic in a little black dress, stilettos, and a perfectly done smoky eye. She was holding a glass of champagne, chatting with friends, having a wonderful time...and then it happened. The Creep approached.

Creeps are a specific breed of man. They're usually easy to spot:
That guy who casually mentions all the money he made working overtime this week, then tells you he has the best weed in the area? Creep.

The winner who loudly announces to his friends that he's "gonna go hit up Red over there," (which is actually kind of nice because it gives you fair warning) doesn't take the hint that you're not interested, and hangs around you all night anyways? Creep.

The friend of a friend who you go on one quasi-date with who insists on holding your hand and then doesn't let go despite the many attempts to escape his grip? Creeeep.

That kid you had one class with in high school and never really spoke to who finds you years later on Facebook and messages you with the opening line, "you single?" Creeper!

That geek trying to hit on you and failing so hard that even his wingman friend has given up on him? Weirdy McCreeper.

Caitlin's Creep at the holiday ball was no exception. He came up to introduce himself, said he just HAD to meet Caitlin. Claimed he's from Southie, which my fellow Bostonians will know instantly to be a lie, but we'll call him O'Creep anyways.Well let me tell you, Caitlin looked absolutely stunning, so how can I blame O'Creep for trying? It's always flattering when a guy comes up to you to say hello. It's just so unfortunate that they often ruin that fleeting moment of happiness with Creepdom. O'Creep came on too strong, but Caitlin is a really nice girl who has trouble being mean to anyone, even Creeps (That's usually a gal's downfall, though Creeps are known to be persistent even while looking big fat NOs directly in the face). So Caitlin was chatting with O'Creep and showing him pictures on her phone. O'Creep took the phone, in what seemed to be an attempt to get a better look...but then he didn't give it back. He actually called his own number from her phone. Smooth move, O'Creep. You've just proven that you never get a girl's digits and have resorted to devising ways to get them without permission. He even managed to get a picture with us.

The blurryness of this photo makes it almost look like we wanted to be in this shot. We didn't.

O'Creep spent the night chatting up several other ladies in-between trying to grope Caitlin and stick his tongue down her throat. We successfully avoided him after he tried to get her to go home with him, but the next day an ominous beep signaled a text message had arrived from O'Creep.

"Hey."

Uh-oh....

"Black dress, right?"

Oh geeze.

"Pic."

Excuse me?
"Send me a pic of yourself."

Number. Blocked.

For a long time I didn't know how to block a number, so I had to come up with a way to remember who to not take a call from. I now have thirteen contacts in my phone with the same name. First name: Don't, last name: Answer. Problem solved!! As a matter of fact, I just added lucky 13 last night. But you'll have to wait until my next post to read about him...he needs a post all his own.