JNEWSFLASH: Not everyone is interested in you.

I know, I know! Shocking. 

Shocking to ego-inflated guys who can’t understand why a single girl wouldn’t want to date them. 

(But my mom says I’m cool!)

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with confidence. 

Confidence is a key trait to get a girl interested in you. 

But it’s important to carry that confidence over even if you get rejected. 

Such as: Oh, well, there are lots of other fish in the sea versus, uhhhhASKING THE GIRL WHO’S NOT INTERESTED IN YOU IF SHE’S A LESBIAN.




Because her being a lesbian is the ONLY possible explanation for why she wouldn’t be interested in you.


This LOL situation happened to ME (of course) when Peter, this guy I worked with years ago, asked me if I was a lesbian.

…in the workplace.


Peter, a mildy attractive guy a few years older than me, was pissed because he left his cell phone number on a torn piece of paper on my desk asking if I wanted to go fishing with him. 

I didn’t. 

(In fact, I don’t know how he got the idea that I would want to do anything with him.)

Now, in general, having a romantic relationship with a co-worker is pretty dumb. There’s even a thoughtful “don’t shit where you eat” expression for this. (Someone make me a needlepoint!!!)

But, if you just NEED to ask out someone you work with, the same rules apply as if you were to hit on someone at a bar: if they don’t show interest, leave them alone.

I, for one, left Peter’s note well enough alone. In fact, I didn’t touch the piece of paper at all. 

For two weeks, it sat untouched at the end of my desk. 

When Peter would walk by my office, I would be polite, but neither one of us mentioned the note. 

This was supposed to be his clue.

Weeks passed, and Peter got increasingly irritable.

But rather than bring it up directly, or wrap his head around the lots of other fish in the sea” concept, one day Peter walked into my office and spoke.

“OK, I just have to ask,” he said. “Are you gay?”




(FYI: I’m sure being asked your sexual orientation at work is illegal.)

“No, I’m straight,” I said, barely looking up from my computer screen, feeling ambushed.

Peter then abruptly walked out of my office, just to make a 360 degree turn and walk back in two seconds later.

“But…you don’t have a BOYFRIEND,” he said, argumentatively.


I blinked at him, unsure of how to respond.

He stood there, waiting.

“Umm,” I started. “Just because I don’t have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t…want a boyfriend,” I said. 


That’s when it hit Peter that I was a single, straight female who wasn’t interested in him

And he couldn’t handle it.

“YOU KNOW WHAT??? FINE!!!” he screamed. (Seriously. Screamed.)

And then he stormed out of my office.


I sat there in shock, wide-eyed. 


Was I on hidden camera? 

I actually scanned the ceiling.

Before I could even text my twin sister, Joy, “Well I’m on the Truman Show again,” Peter barreled back into my office.

“YOU KNOW WHAT?” he repeated angrily, grabbing his handwritten note off my desk. 

“I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D CALL ME ANYWAY!” he said (hahahahahahahaha), and then dramatically crumbled up the note and threw it in the trash can by the door.



Thirty-four years old, shredding his own note!

He was mad, ya’ll.


I stared in silence the whole time. 

Then Peter stormed out again, left the building completely, and never spoke to me again the remaining four months I worked there.



Sorry, Peter. 

It’s not me. It’s you.


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