My Bestie, a Bushy-Assed Penis, and the Art of "NO"
Okay, people, gather 'round, because I have a story that's equal parts infuriating, hilarious (in a dark, twisted way), and a perfect example of why boundaries are more important than a winning lottery ticket. And yes, it involves a bushy-assed penis. You've been warned.
So, my ride-or-die, my sister from another mister, Vanessa (we're celebrating a decade of friendship next year, holla!), went to Chicago this weekend. Solo trip, meeting up with friends, living her best life. Sounds amazing, right? Until it isn't.
She goes to a concert, ends up back at her hotel with a "friend" (and I use that term very loosely). This dude, who apparently has been harboring a secret, burning desire for Vanessa (news to her!), decides to pull a real "treat" and reveals his… ahem… "package" after exiting the bathroom. Completely. Naked.
Let's just pause here for a second. Who in the actual hell thinks this is a good idea? Is there a manual somewhere that says, "If your friend isn't getting the hint, whip out your wang and BAM! Instant romance!"? Because if there is, I need to burn it. Preferably with fire. And then pee on the ashes.
Vanessa, being the queen she is, told him NO. Multiple times. But Mr. Bushy-Assed Penis (yes, I'm sticking with that) apparently missed the "no" memo. He kept pressuring her, trying to "seduce" her. Because, you know, nothing says "I respect you" like ignoring your repeated refusals and flashing your bits. Eye roll so hard I almost pulled a muscle.
This, my friends, is textbook sexual harassment. It's disgusting. It's disrespectful. And it's absolutely unacceptable. Just because you're friends with someone doesn't give you the right to violate their boundaries. Just because you're attracted to someone doesn't give you the right to pressure them into something they don't want. Newsflash, fellas: "No" means "no." It doesn't mean "try harder," it doesn't mean "maybe later," it means "get your naked self out of my hotel room, you absolute cretin."
The audacity of this guy doesn't end there. Oh no. After Vanessa, understandably shaken, gets herself home safely, Mr. Bushy-Assed Penis has the gall to slide into her DMs, acting like he's the victim! "Really?" he texts. Really?! You traumatize someone, make them feel unsafe in their own hotel room, and then you have the nerve to play the wounded party? You, sir, are a special kind of a-hole.
If I were Vanessa, I'd block him on everything. Carrier pigeon? Blocked. Smoke signals? Blocked. Telepathy? You better believe that’s blocked too. And honestly, I'd probably file a police report. Because this isn't just awkward; it's assault.
This whole situation is a perfect example of why setting boundaries is crucial. And more importantly, why enforcing them is even more crucial. Vanessa said no. That should have been the end of the story. But unfortunately, some people seem to think "no" is just a suggestion. It's not. It's a full stop. It's a line in the sand. And if you cross it, you're not just an ass; you're a criminal.
So, to all my ladies out there: Know your worth. Know your boundaries. And don't be afraid to tell anyone who crosses them to go home and masturbate. Because seriously, there are better things to do with your time than deal with a bushy-assed penis and a man who doesn't understand the word "no."
