Then he approached.
"Do you know where Dollarama is?"
Sir. You’re at Vaughan Mills. If you’re from here, you already know. And if you’re not? There are kiosks. And maps. And logic. But sure. Let’s pretend you’re lost.
I gave him a quick answer: "I think there’s one outside the mall." And went back to my video.
He didn’t move.
He told me his name was Paris. Held out his hand. I gave it a boop with my fist instead of a shake. He said:
"That was a hot boop, whatever it was."
...Sir.
Then came the real line:
"You know I’m trying to get your number."
This man was not my type. At all.
I told him: "I’d be more impressed if you asked where Gucci was."
He pressed on: "Do you already have someone?" I lied: "Yes." "Is it serious?" I raised an eyebrow. "Are you a lesbian?"
At this point, I said:
"If you were the last man on Earth, I’d date the woman. Actually—I’d date the bear."
He walked off. I moved. End scene.
🚩 Red Flags Paris Displayed:
Fake Question Opener – Pretended to be lost to start a conversation.
Ignored Disinterest – Didn’t respect my cues or space.
Unwanted Physical Gesture – Reached for my hand without consent.
Immediate Escalation – Asked for my number with zero rapport.
Pushed Past My No – Tried different angles to wear me down.
Questioned My Sexuality – A fragile ego move when rejected.
Ignored Context – I was clearly not in the mood or setting.
Tried to Shame Me – Couldn’t handle rejection with grace.
💡 What I Learned:
Even in my most non-flirty state, I can attract nonsense. My aura works overtime.
No means no the first time. Repetition is manipulation.
Fake vulnerability is not charming. Ask where Gucci is next time.
Men who can’t handle rejection weaponize assumptions. Not my problem.
I can shut it down without raising my voice. The bear line? Iconic.
Sometimes, they approach you in heels. Sometimes, in a silk dress. And sometimes, when you're just trying to watch a serial killer documentary in peace.
Volume VIII, signed. Paris—goodbye.
Next.
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