I saw it in their body language and shaded eyes: what does this guy want? Can he be trusted?
Three women, three places, three weeks. I was being friendly. Thought I was charming, as I’ve done all my life. Maybe I was wrong all those years. Now, addressing these women in public places, catching their reactions, I have to re-think matters.
First, it’s their right to not be bothered by others, just as it’s mine. I thought that asking what someone was reading was safe and innocuous as we crossed paths at the coffee shop. She’d previously asked me to watch her purse for her. As a writer and reader, I’m often trying to learn what others are reading. It interests me. But asking this sixty-ish woman clearly disturbed her. Haven’t seen her since when she was a coffee shop regular. I hope I haven’t driven her away. I’m sorry.
I sincerely believed I knew the second woman from another place. I judged her to be in her sixties. She indulged me and responded but clearly thought I was up to something, maybe hitting on her. Sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again.
I’m used to being flirty. I always thought I was charming. My wife and sisters always told me I was charming. Maybe they were being nice. Polite. Maybe I used to be charming but, older now, it’s no longer charming. Perhaps, because I’m older, it’s perceived as creepy.
Could be that it’s not me at all, but other matters, a product of our times. Women have endured unwanted male attention and assumptions and decided, enough. I’ll note, I do the same with males, chatting with them sometimes about what they’re reading, their accent, or talking to them because I think I might know them.
My wife has spoken of being approached by men in public. For example, she’s working out and a man walking by will tell her with a grin, “Smile.” Pisses her off. She’s exercising and sweating. It’s work. She’s focusing. Smiling is not part of her agenda, and she resents him telling her that because men are always saying things like to women.
I thought what I was doing was different. I guess I was rationalizing it as different and okay.
I quit, though. I’ll keep to my private circle, drop a cone of secrecy around it, only speak when addressed, and keep myself to myself.
This all probably reads like self-pitying whining. That’s not my intention but you’ll reach your own conclusion. I like to write to think through my thoughts. Doesn’t mean I need to post it for the public, but I often find that things which confuse me also confuses others. Or maybe I’m fishing for sympathy and just rationalizing that I’m searching for understanding. It’s a challenge for me because this is how I learned to be from Mom and my wife, polite and friendly. It’s inculcated in me.
I guess this is the new world, at least in progressive Ashlandia, for a sixty-seven-year-old white male. I just need to learn, accept, and adjust.
Michael Seidel, writer 
I think I made a man uncomfortable, myself, last week. He’d struggled getting out of his vehicle, and didn’t move very rapidly, so I waited and held the door, explaining when he hesitated that I was paying a good deed forward. He went on in, saying thank you. I apologized for if I’d made him uncomfortable. He said it took him a second, but he figured he had 30 years on me, being over 90, and that he did have a door-hold or two coming to him. I’m glad it worked out for me, and I’ll also be more careful and thoughtful, but yes, DH says no good deed goes unpunished, many days.
That said, I’m sure your wife agrees that women being told to smile and you greeting people as you do are 2 entirely different situations.
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It’s not you–it’s just that women have learned the hard way/out of necessity to be leery of men they don’t know (and of some they do know). The thing I don’t get is why a woman would trust you to watch her purse (that’s a big deal) and then not want to tell you what she was reading–now that’s weird!
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