Last night I was at a birthday party that I’m still recovering from. There was a lot of Michael Jackson playing, a lot of rum being drunk, and a lot of sketchy party crashers. The party was in a dorm room for a summer program that a lot of my friends are doing, and the party crashers were students working on campus or the children of professors. These crashers came for one reason, and it was obvious. After being rejected, in subtle and not so subtle ways, one of them, D, made his way for my friend A. I figure this was pretty ballsy as she obviously wasn’t interested. His game was wack anyway. He asked her name, and she lied. Then she asked his, and questioned him about which professors were his parents.
Then he fucked up and let slip that he knew who she was from (seems the creepers have a stalker-information network). She flipped. I became more on guard. He tried to touch her shoulder. She told him not to touch her again, and to not talk to her. Then our friend S intervened and asked D if I made him nervous. He looked at me, but didn’t say anything to me. I decided it would be more intimidating if I said nothing, but glared at him. So I did. S continued to tell him he should be intimidated by me. Dude D eventually walked off, and seemed scared of me for the rest of the party.
Then A told me I should go in the hall to make sure that D, who followed a young woman he had been eyeing out into the hall, didn’t follow her any farther. He freaked out when he saw me, and went back to the party. I explained to the young woman, and she laughed and thanked me.
Later it turned out Dude D and company stole a bottle of gin from the party, and also found A’s room and opened the door, before heading out. So yeah– they were real creepers, but people refuse to believe it.
My reason for this anecdote: when does me watching out for my friends become a paternalistic, masculine endeavor. Last night I decided to watch, and let A fuck with D, but I wanted to end it right away. Because I also saw that he thought she was flirting with him. Also because I was itching to fight someone which seems an excessively masculine thing to want. If I had fought him would he have not gone into A’s room? What if she had been there? How do I make the line between interventionism and a caring friend?
Shit’s tough. I guess I need to remain in dialogue; make sure I don’t overstep folks’ personal autonomy.
Gender Agenda 