I find myself reflecting on the events that unfolded one night when I was dining at my favorite steakhouse. After an extraordinarily long day at work, I wanted some “me-time”. I wanted to sit at the bar, sip some wine and work on my writing. The wine sipping happened; the writing never did.
Shortly after I arrived an elderly gentleman that I have known for years arrived. We called him, “Two dollar bill Ken” back in the day when a large group of us hung out at the same few local bars and restaurants. Ken would get himself attention and engage in conversations by handing out two-dollar bills. In certain settings this was well received, even charming. On other occasions people did not appreciate the intrusion into their conversations. I witnessed and heard of a multitude of instances when Ken interjected himself into conversations with attractive women out on dates. Ken’s handing out of money, flashing piles of cash around, and offering to buy everyone drinks and donate to their causes comes across in negative ways to many.
Several of my close male friends felt he is simply a dirty old man, and they felt he should be told to go away. I feel they were too harsh in their judgment. I always gave Ken grace; he is a lonely widower just trying to socialize, and maybe not knowing how to go about it.
That said, I am abrupt in telling Ken that I am not interested. Every time I see him, I tell him he can join me and my friends for a drink when we are out, but he is not to ever hit on me. The sort of bullshit that Ken uses to try to attract women simply does not work on me; I am a self-made millionaire. I provide for myself. To be honest Ken’s approach of buying people’s attention, and trying to use his money to get dates with women is pathetic.
Still he is a human being, and all humans need to feel accepted. Socializing is a key part of person’s mental health. I had not seen him in years when he walked into the steakhouse bar where I was sitting.
I was already engaged in a great conversation with the woman sitting next to me, so I wasn’t getting my “me-time”, and Ken was looking for a place to sit. The woman sitting next to me and I offered Ken a place to sit. Looking back, did the offer to sit down signal to Ken that he could hit on me?
Ken and I caught up on all of the usual how is the family and work, etc., and the woman sitting next to me shared that it was her birthday and her and her husband were there celebrating. She is an amazing lady, and I really enjoyed our conversation. Unfortunately, Ken could not stop at small talk.
I am not sure if it was the alcohol, Ken’s aging mind, or just the way that Ken is, but he does not understand boundaries. He cannot read a situation and adjust his behavior. He is the same no matter where he goes and who he encounters. He asked the women if she had kids she said that she had two children, but one died very young, many, many years ago. Ken pressed her to know how the child died. She clearly did not want to talk about it. He then starts talking about how he will set up a foundation to honor the woman’s child that died too young. This is just one of plenty examples of Ken not knowing when to shut up, and he hasn’t even started handing out two-dollar bills yet.
The conversation moved on, and the women and I were talking about how much we loath cell phones at the dinner table, favorite movies, and how names from older generations are making a come back. Ken did what I saw Ken do so many times, and he interjected into the conversation by pulling out a folded stack of two-dollar bills.
He says they are lucky two-dollar bills. He tells us that once he handed a woman a two-dollar bill, and she scolded him that she was not that kind of woman. Ken then proceeded to grab a huge folded stack of one hundred dollar bills from his other pocket. He tells us that he threw one of the hundreds at the woman and said, ”If I had thought that I would have handed you this.”
Looking back on this, the story frames one of two situations. Situation one is a woman tells Ken to back off, and he makes them out to be reading the situation wrong, even conceited or rude for misinterpreting his kind intentions. Situation two is woman does not say anything, and graciously accepts Ken’s lucky two-dollar bill. In situation two, Ken then seems to think that he has free reign to hit on the woman.
As the evening went on, I tried to maintain a balance between making Ken feel a part of the conversation without him thinking he could hit on me. I reminded him repeatedly that I am not interested at all. He managed to laugh this off, and he kept moving closer and closer to me, despite me pushing him away.
At one point, he started retelling the story of the woman that said she was not “that kind of woman” when he gave her a two-dollar bill. He then again pulled the stack of hundreds out of his pocket, and he dropped some money on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, and he would have painfully smacked the back of his head on the over hang of the granite bar if I had not caught the back of his head first. At his age, a blow to the head of that nature could be really serious.
Instead of proceeding to get back up more cautiously, so that he did not hit his head, he proceeded to kiss on my knee, and attempted to put his head up my skirt. I was furious. I did not want to cause a scene, and I did not want to ruin the woman’s birthday. I did tell Ken that I should have just let him hit his head. The woman’s husband intervened, politely telling Ken to put his money away. Ken clearly did not like this.
I finished my meal, and I paid my tab. I had refused all of Ken’s offers to buy me a drink or pay any part of my tab. Somehow, he still thought that he needed to walk me to my car. He was really getting into my personal space, and I had enough bullshit for one day.
The woman next to me and her husband had a solid read on the situation. They walked me out; we left Ken sitting at the bar. We chatted for a bit while outside, and I thanked her for letting us crash her birthday dinner. She laughed and gave me a hug.
Looking back on the situation, I grow even more angry. Why should a man’s bad actions make me feel embarrassed? Why does our society make us feel as if something like this is the woman’s fault? I would find out later that the whole time this was going on the bartenders found the situation to be hilarious. I am failing to see any humor in the situation.