Queer Girl Q&A Halloween Edition: Men Creeping on Dates Between Women

Q: I’m a junior in college and was wondering how you deal with cis men hitting on you when you’re on dates with women? I find that some can be really persistent. I don’t want to scare off my date, but I also don’t want to put up with behavior that I find annoyingly inappropriate and even sexist. Help!

A: I remember one of my first times in a situation like this. Halloween weekend 2012, my 22-year-old self and the woman I was on a date with were sipping blueberry vodka lemonades at a cozy booth inside a San Francisco bar. Cat quirks and film portrayals of existential crises were among our topics of conversation.

The woman wore a dragonfly costume; I was dressed as Pikachu. Cobwebs hung from the 1920s-style chandeliers. With her tattoos, tongue piercing, and springy brunette curls, I found the girl extremely cute—and was excited to continue getting to know her.

A few minutes into our conversation, though, two guys approached and sat down unprompted on either side of us. Had we wanted them to leave, one of us would have needed to speak up. Unable to tell if my date minded their presence, though, and not wanting to risk coming across as “the angry lesbian” to a person I hardly knew, I said nothing.

Eventually we moved to another bar—only for the situation to repeat. By the time we’d broken loose from the second batch of courters, only 20 minutes remained before we’d have to part ways (public transportation stopped running at midnight, and Uber didn’t exist yet). It felt like the evening—in little pieces at a time—had been hijacked. 

Though I wish this was an isolated experience, unfortunately, numerous variations of it would play out during my younger years. Back in college, I once sat with my head against my girlfriend’s shoulder on a bench outside a bar, when suddenly I heard a click, and a guy yelling “Sweet!” By the time I’d looked up and processed what had happened (that he had snapped a picture of us with his phone), he and his four laughing friends had already run off.

Another time (at a gay club!), a man requested a kiss from me and the girl I was dancing with. Still another man, after a woman and I informed him we were on a date, responded with, “That’s OK, I don’t have a problem with that,” while proceeding to remain at our side. His face was so close I could smell the beer on his breath.

I think this behavior is especially common at your age, Reader, when men’s overall maturity level is lower (and more of them are single)—but even in my 30s, I am still an occasional recipient to it.

 If one young woman invites harassment, two together ups it exponentially. As a post on AfterEllen.com put it, “Lesbian couples are never alone. We are subject to unwanted participants, whom we are supposed to laugh off or pretend not to hear.”

It would be one thing if these were just benign comments or “boys being boys.” Yet the risk is always there for this supposedly harmless behavior to escalate into more.

One night for instance, a man saw my date and me at the bar, followed us out, and continued trailing us for several blocks. I remember feeling deeply unsettled, since we were both short women. It was also late, and neither of us had any pepper spray.

“I know this is new to you, but I’ve dated a lot of women. This is just par for the course. This is the risk you’re taking,” Carmen Maria Machado’s lover tells her in In The Dream House, after fighting off a drunk man on the street who’d nearly accosted them.

I wish there were some sort of agreed-upon sign that women and I could place on our table—a tall glass unicorn maybe. Or a rainbow-striped cat. Really anything to communicate “date happening, please do not disturb” (then again, some men might take that as an invitation). It would be similar to the way some place a cowboy hat on their bedroom doorknob to signal when they are in the act.

Without such markers, though, our only option is to use our words. And so, the advice I have for you, younger and more apprehensive reader: speak up for yourself and risk not looking nice.

There’s always the chance that the woman you’re with will be put off by this (as my younger self feared she would be). I believe, though, that the right match will view your ability to set boundaries as more of a strength than a turn-off.

Personally, I’ve found that to exist comfortably and visibly in this heteronormative world, I’ve had to at times let go of the desire to channel Nice Girl energy. I’ve learned not to concern myself with the feelings and comfort of any man who is not concerned with mine.

Hopefully one day, the onus will no longer be us women to shut this behavior down— because we’ll live in a world that’s less permissive of it. The concept of any form of misogynistic intrusion on lesbian relationships will be widely considered a social faux pas, as opposed to perhaps annoying (but typical and excusable) male behavior.

Until then, though: an explicit “no thanks” can be hot, and, at times, necessary.

You can follow Eleni on IG @eleni_steph_writer.