‘”Bevin”, I’m thinking, is just like “R” told me he would be.’
As “R” and I walk in the door of the art reception, “Bevin” sees us and we see him. In my mind I can see his inner antenna shoot up through his cloud of curly blonde hair. His rat nose sniffs the air and he pounces.
“Good evening! I’m Bevin!” he says to me. (Slurp. Grin.) “Yabber, yabber, yabber.”
I am first in the door and so he fixates on me.
I tremble with an inner desire to either smack him hard or run.
He is hammering on about his position in the art world, his works of art and wouldn’t I like “some cookies?”
I am civil, friendly and I think, charming, as I slip from his auric grasp and shoot away, to look at some paintings.
“R” is right behind me. She has told me on the drive up the mountain to the Art Party, “This guy will probably be there. When I was at another art meeting he tried to convince me that I should let him put me, naked, in plaster! That’s what he does. He makes molds of women’s naked chests!”
“Arrrhgh…..” we had both said.
“And that’s not all,” “R” continued. His girlfriend was there and from what they were saying and how they were acting, I’m sure they wanted me to join them in a three-some! You know, a sex thing. I didn’t know what to say to them. I don’t want to see eitherof them at this thing. Oh god, what am I going to do if I do?”
Now, at the party, I look behind me. “R” is squeenched next to several of our art friends, head down, blending in, taking cover, looking for protection from Bevin’s expected advances.
I look around the room. It’s the Town Hall in a small gold mining town in the mountains. There’s a table loaded with home-made casseroles, fruit pies, and salads, with five Hefty ladies dishing out the buffet.
The room is full of art, some beautiful but mostly bad art, lovingly executed, by some of the ladies in question and a few others. And then, of course, we have Bevin’s plaster casts of ‘chests and tits’ with colorful plastic jewels and beads dangling from the nipples.
I’m thinking of how I was told that one of our group, an imposing older lady artist with fine taste, raged at Bevin during the last show, booming at him, “You are NOT an artist, you are nothing but a PORNOGRAPHER! This is not art, it is pornography!”
Now, “R” and I eat, mingle and chat with each other and the artists. “R” is uncomfortable and soon asks me if we can leave now.
As we say our good-byes and head out the door, Bevin flys after us, arms waving. “Oh! It was so good of you to come!”
“R” and I are tumbling down the steep concrete steps to the sidewalk below, when Bevin reaches “R” and grabs her hand…..and her arm…and her shoulder.
“And you, “R”, we never had a chance to talk! I do want to chat with you, again, and really soon!”
He leers and almost dribbles drool.
“R” turns away from him so quickly that her white sweater comes almost entirely off in Bevin’s hand.
On the ride home, “R” is moaning about Bevin.
“And you!” she shouts, “You were friendlywith him! You chatted nicelywith him!”
“R” I say, “did you notice that he left me strictly alone after that? Would you like to know how to say NO! to someone without saying NO?”
“Can you do that? “R” asks.
I tell her how I used to specialize in making excuses when I was younger. How I learned dozens of kind ways to refuse dates with men I had no interest in.
“It wore me out,” I tell her, “thinking up reasonable and pleasant excuses and still, I often found myself having dinner with men I didn’t even like at all, because my excuses didn’t always work with all men.
Finally, I learned The Way To Say No Without Saying No.
“Well, what is it?” “R” says. “Tell me.”
“With Bevin,” I say, “I was chatting merrily and being myself. But…in my mindI was thinking, very strongly“NO. NO. Don’t even ask me. I have no interest in you and your naked sex stuff. None. Period. Back off!”
“As I thought and felt these words I also locked eyeswith him a few times as I shot my thoughts like a laser into his head.
Everyone is telepathic. Everyone hears whatever someone else is thinking. We just don’t know we do. If you had been closely watching me talk with Bevin, you would have seen him take a step backward from me as we spoke.”
“Is that true?” “R” says.
“It’s very true,” I tell her. “The thing I want to know is, do you truly want to discourage Bevin or do you really secretly want his attentions?
A lot of people rant about men or women’s approaches to them but in reality, the attention makes them feel popular and desirable.
So, only use this method, “R” if you mean it.”
“R’s” answer is to look out the car window as she rolls this new idea over in her mind.
“This technique,” I say, “can be used with anyone, in any situation. You can be pleasant with pushy sales people or friends and family members who are pressing you to do what they want you to do.
This techniques prevents or stops many arguments, disagreements and upsets.
You can still be ‘likable’ and keep the peace while you say NO, without saying No.”
My friends, please try this method and tell me how it works for you. It’s easy, it’s fun and it hurts no one.