By David Futrelle
Great headlines — like the New York Post’s legendary page-one shocker, “Headless Body in Topless Bar” — grab the reader’s attention instantly but leave enough unsaid that hapless news junkies feel compelled to click the link or buy the tabloid because they need to know the rest of the story.
Internet garbage site Return of Kings has gotten pretty good at the clickbaity headlines. But one memorable headline on the front page of the site today, while certainly attention grabbing, falls just short of greatness because, well, it’s pretty obvious that the real story can’t possibly live up to whatever story you make up in your own head about it.
This is the headline:
But however much I might cherish the story I came up with in this particular instance — which involves a blonde Ruth Buzzi lookalike hitting a tophatted, velvet-clad PUA with her purse — it’s my job to click on these links so you don’t have to. The good news is that the real story is nearly as good as my imaginary one, if somewhat less dramatic. And by “good” I mean awful.
So it seems that Return of Kings writer William Adams went drinking with his girlfriend and some of his friends one recent evening in Stockholm. Alas, his girlfriend had a little too much of the drink and wanted to return home around midnight. As Adams, who is apparently always right about everything, explains,
I made a quick calculation and decided that the wisest choice was to take the metro, which is located just outside the bar. I know that traffic can get congested, especially where we were at that time, and even short taxi rides are very expensive in Stockholm, where we live. Of course I can afford a taxi ride or twenty but in this case it was the proper decision to not do it, especially after taking travel duration in to consideration.
But she was afraid of throwing up on the train and insisted on taking a cab, even though this was objectively the wrong thing to do.
We did, and as expected it took much longer time and costed me almost the equivalent of 50 US dollars. … Because of construction work we also had to walk about 300 meters to our home, and she was wearing a dress, rubbing her arms a bit to showcase the low outside temperature relative to her choice of clothing.
She then consequently asserted that she wanted to borrow my (stylish) jacket, but I was annoyed and didn’t want to lend it to her in that particular situation.
Naturally, Adams insisted on informing her that he had been right all along about the cab thing. Apparently this required him to yell at her a little bit.
I thought that if she occasionally associates with my male friends, then she should talk to us on more equal terms and not be afraid of some realtalk. So while listening to her complaints I raised my voice and semi-yelled that if she would have listened to me in the first place we would not have to walk outside and would already be home by now.
ENTER ELDERLY SWEDISH WOMAN
WHO TURNS OUT TO NOT ACTUALLY BE ELDERLY EXCEPT MAYBE TO THE SORT OF PEOPLE WHO READ RETURN OF KINGS
Meeting us on the sidewalk, then about 200 meters from home, a middle-aged woman suddenly shows up. She stops next to me and starts yelling directly in my face. Although she looks normal, she unhesitatingly manifests her dislike for my behavior.
And the fight of the century is on!
My girl has started to cry a bit, not atypical behavior for her subspecies. …
The 50-something bitch sees this and engages in another attack, after I have tried to walk past her in an attempt to ignore and move on. She threatens to “wrestle me to the ground” and calls me an “ass hat,” all while standing two inches from me, looking hostile.
The “elderly woman” then ups the ante by not actually trying to wrestle Adams to the ground.
She refrains from doing so but does not listen when I stress that it is neither her nor anyone else’s business, and the entire situation is taken out of context too for that matter.
Presumably the “context” is that he is always right about everything and he was just pointing this out to his freezing girlfriend very loudly.
After that she also starts a lecture on the ABC of Cultural Marxism. She is so tired of white males who use their privilege bla bla bla.
Ah, yes, Cultural Marxism, that totally real thing that normal people bring up all the time while having arguments on the street at 1 AM and that isn’t an antisemitic alt-right conspiracy theory or anything.
A white knight, perhaps a male feminist – although on a bicycle instead of a noble steed – shows up and asks if there is a problem. Well, that is great, I quietly sigh. I try to calm him down and say that the screaming woman is crazy. Luckily for me he hears the bitch calling me an ass hat again and decides to leave. At least there is some level of rationality left among cucked Swedes. Perhaps he reads ROK in his leisure time.
This is really quite the dramatic story! First we have an attack that turns out not to be an attack, by an elderly woman who turns out not to be elderly, and now a white knight who doesn’t actually do any white knighting.
The “conversation” continues for another five to ten minutes …
In other words, thirty seconds.
… and like Gandhi I stoically remain calm. She gabbles her last feminist tenets, hugs my girlfriend, and suggests that she should leave me. Her mission is almost completed. The woman then adds that there is still something good in me and I do not have to be an ass hat. I can change. Then she left.
BOY WHAT A SAVAGE ATTACK HE ENDURED HERE. HE IS TRULY LIKE GANDHI. GIVE THIS BOY A NOBEL PEACE PRIZE.
Amazingly, this experience seems to have taught our hero a few lessons, which he spells out in his conclusion.
If there is anything to learn from this minor debacle it is that non-violence is the only available strategy for a masculine man in many situations where he is confronted. Of course it would be more than pathetic to beat a woman, but many might consider doing it to give someone disrespectful like that a lesson. Think again. In fact, even speech can be considered violence in our current radical left-leaning societies, and to avoid rough talk and a raised voice near women is the way to go.
Wait, so you shouldn’t beat women who annoy you? WHO KNEW. Mind blown.
@steampunked
Yeah, it’s a pretty good sign that the person saying it isn’t, shall we say, quite the nicest. I’d say something stronger, but comments policy.
@Cheese Chocobo
IgnoreSandra said:
You were so eager to paint me as some example of your imaginary misandry that you literally didn’t read what I wrote in the quote of mine you used.
Since you’ve apologized, I won’t bother tearing the rest of your post apart.
@Axecalibur & WWTH
Thanks. I’ve been busy today. I’m sorry how I keep digressing into bad stuff that’s happened to me and been done to me. I don’t have any real excuse for it. I know that most or all of us here have suffered in some similar ways.
On a super fun plus side, almost 100% of the people I know are treating me right. It doesn’t remove the memories or eliminate the threat, but it seems just not spending time with men has greatly reduced the amount of bullshit I’m put through. I’m going to be performing in “Candy Store” from Heathers before a rocky show soon enough, and I’m excited to strut around on stage in a mini skirt.
@IgnoreSandra:
I…don’t even understand that as a play on words. What the hell was it supposed to mean? Was the guy positing a linguistic connection between skittles and skirts based on them having several letters in common? The others were horrible, but that one just seems incomprehensibly stupid.
@ChimericMind
I have no fucking clue. It was some dude I didn’t know, I was walking across campus with four of my coworkers, and he just asked that in a really fucking creepy tone of voice. My best guess would be that he just happened to have a bag of skittles and wanted to find a way to make a woman afraid for the rest of the day.
I got rid of him by politely declining, and having four friends with me right then.
Long time reader, first time poster.
Did he actually use “put in her place”? Like, seriously? They’re not even trying to hide their misogyny anymore. So much for the “we’re just worried about the problems of men”. They’re not even trying to keep up the facade of believing in equality. Just… wow.
Subspecies… Subspecies. What. I don’t think that even needs further comment, it’s so blatantly wrong.
Re: the photo discussion.
Wow. I had no idea about the history of that photo. The story sounds incredibly tragic. If anyone has more info on it, I’d love to see it.
Your Gay, Elfy, Bull Riding Friend,
The Fereldan Magister
@IgnoreSandra
I am incredibly sorry. I tend to read fast, and sometimes, I accidentally miss words. I should’ve reread your comment to make sure it said what I thought it said before typing up that entire screed. I am truly sorry for what you went through, and for my earlier idiocy. I hope you can forgive me.
One time I was carrying a pizza box and a man asked me “are you a cheesy lover, or a cheesy lover?”
One time I was standing in line at Subway, and I heard this guy say “Damn!” And I was confident and innocent then, so I thought nothing of it. Then I heard him say it again, louder. So I kept waiting to order my sandwich, and I heard him say it a third time, loud, close, and inexplicably angry. I turned around, I saw his face whiten, and he ran away.
…What does that even mean? That guy doesn’t seem to know how the word “or” works. Or how talking to people works.
Only thing I can gather from that is that he’s watched way too much porn, and thinks the “pizza delivery woman has sex with the customer in lieu of a tip” thing is true.
@Sandra
What did he think that would accomplish? Logic is failing me with this guy.
Your Incredibly Gay, Elfy, Bull Riding Friend,
The Fereldan Magister
What the author wanted to say:
“I was the victim of a horrible situation caused by other people not listening to me and because they’re jerks. Also, I have a girlfriend, lots of money, and I look cool.”
What the author actually said:
“As you may have noticed by how I tell this story, with my self-aggrandizing style and deeply unsettling word choices that point to subtext of misogyny and arrogance; I am a terrible person. But I’m okay with that, so y’all can suck it.”
Yeah, I think I got it.
I once had a man tell me that I should thank my parents for my good looks. I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses and kept walking. Thankfully, he was going the other direction.
Hey, somebody linked to a pdf for Brazilian Cheese Balls but I don’t remember which thread. Help?
I’ve had a man shout that I was ugly when I walked past him. And another whistle at me loudly from his car when we were stopped at the same light (I was on a bike).
Despite the difference in message, the mentality behind both of these was the same, I think – it’s as if women are only around to look good, and their safety/comfort level is irrelevant. NOW, if I’d been wearing a sign that said “Please Evaluate My Physical Appearance in a Loud, Intrusive Way”…
@Unlucky Blackjack – Agreed! 🙂
Adding to the “what the fuck were you thinking saying this shit to someone” stories: years ago, a close friend’s boyfriend and I were waiting on her to show up so we could do something as a group. We were just chatting some nonsense or other when he broke off the conversation, looked me dead in the face, and said “I wonder what would have happened if I had met you first.”
I??? What? Fucking nothing is what would have happened, because dating doesn’t work that way. :/
I have about a million of these stories but alas, have to get off to bed soon.
That same guy who asked if I was a cheesy lover also tried to get me to come home with him to have cinnamon bread and beer. He opened his bag and showed me the bread and beer as if my reluctance to go off with a strange man from the bus stop was that I was uncertain if he really had beer. Then he sang me a song. I still remember the lyrics.
“Sit down here and rest your bones.
Here on Lake Street, you’re never alone.
You’ve got the body and the attitude,
You’re the finest thing I ever saw.”
As creepy as it was, it was all so ridiculous that I’m almost happy to have this story.
Another fun bus stop perv was the guy who walked up to me and asked “are your boobs real? Because if they are, I’ll give you my home phone, cell phone and address.” I just gave him a dirty look and went back to reading.
What goes through a guy’s head that makes them think “Huh, I should go let that stranger over there know that I am currently thinking about having sex with her.” Do they think that’s flirting? Because the most important thing about flirting is that both side consent and want it. And not in the “I know you want it” kinda way.
I’m reminded of that time WHTM covered that Reddit mega thread about the first time women we creepily hit on.
https://www.wehuntedthemammoth.com/2015/04/11/in-creepy-reddit-megathread-thousands-of-women-recount-the-first-time-they-were-perved-on-by-a-grown-man/
Okay, got off work a few hours after reading this incident our ever so manly man RoKer has related, and all I’m thinking is something like “I’ll take ‘shit that never happened’ for five hundred, Alex.”
That and ‘damn, they try to dress up their literary dog turds in jewels, but they seem to have gotten ’em from Michael’s and not Tiffany’s and it’s showing. And smelling.’
It’s like ‘How do I Shot Web?’ with words.
@Unlucky Blackjack
It’s a power play, designed to make a woman feel uncomfortable and the guy to feel like — I dunno, a deity?
Wow! I got a reaction from a strange woman. I must have supernatural abilities.
I once accidentally catcalled someone, due to my poor situational awareness. I was just getting out of my car when I spotted a really pretty boxer (the dog breed) passing by on the other side of the street. And I kind of just gasped and went “Oh, look at you, you’re gorgeous!”
…And then I spotted the lady in shorts and a tank top walking the dog, and made eye contact with her. And then I squeaked and fled.
I’m very visibly female, though, so hopefully I didn’t make her feel too weird. With any luck, it was also apparent that I was talking to the dog.
Pretty sure that 99.9% of catcalls are nowhere near accidental, though. The discussion at hand just reminded me of that encounter.
@Kat, ambassador of the feminist government in exile
Going to be honest; that’s pretty fucking sad. Is there a term for when someone is such an asshole that you feel bad for them?
And just so there’s no confusion, I’m not defending them. Anyone who makes strangers feel like shit for a confidence boost is an asshole.
I just wish that the world’s assholes weren’t also so pathetic. And that the most dangerous people and ideologies weren’t also the most ridiculous. At least then it won’t be so hard to convince other people to take them seriously.
@Catalpa
The picture your story painted in my head made my day. 🙂
@Unlucky Blackjack
They’re truly sad people.
My own term for them is “mean jerks,” but yeah, there ought to be a term that particularly describes these pathetic assholes.
I seem to get the most weirdness when I’m rollerblading. Teenagers yelling “Wanna hook up?”, guys asking if I work out, etc. When you’re a woman, and you’re doing something odd in public, some guys figure you must be looking for attention and hence “easy”.
Rereading the piece above, I’m struck by how the OP assumes “putting her in her place” is a normal, minding-my-own-business, la-di-da activity that, when interrupted, automatically makes him the sympathetic victim. “I was just innocently verbally abusing and withholding physical comfort, when out of NOWHERE…”
How broken and insecure do you have to be to think that berating a sick, freezing girlfriend is so ordinary that it’s beyond reproach?
Also, shouldn’t his omniscient quick-calculating STEM mind, in the course of scanning and optimizing the routes home, have remembered there was construction 300 meters from his apartment, and directed the cab around it? Or even through it. Even generously assuming they were doing active night construction at 2 am (rare, unless it’s a major thoroughfare – night roadwork costs extra and is more dangerous for the crew), construction zones usually allow local traffic through unless they’re completely tearing up the road. Last summer there were major repairs going on outside my house for weeks, and the crews always let the neighborhood people come and go. Maybe it’s different in Sweden?
OMG I have a million of them.
The guy outside a club who grabbed my boobs while I was waiting for a taxi, hassled me to come into an alleyway with him, and then told me I shouldn’t lead men on. He actually tried to drag me – I was saved by the arrival of a cab
The guy who “pressed here” when I was wearing a Tamagotchi t-shirt and then got angry because I was upset (quite apart from the personal contact issue, he jabbed his fingers into my chest so hard he bruised me) and then told me it was my fault for wearing a t-shirt that said “press here”
The guys who asked me out when I was working a shift as a supermarket cashier, gave me his phone number unasked, then came in after I didn’t call and glared at me muttering things under his breath and did this every week until I asked to never work that shift again
The guy who proposed to me when I was working a shift as a supermarket cashier (it’s literally my job to be nice, please stop)
The four guys who have flashed me (one was very drunk, the other three were literally hanging out in two public parks and a train station shelter looking for women to masturbate at)
The guy who used to live next door and used to listen out for me having sex or masturbating, and join in. Loudly. Occasionally saying my name. Every time until I got too self conscious to do either in that house. He used to always blank me when he was with his girlfriend, but if he saw me on my own he would try to engage me in creepy conversation. I decided I must have some kind of sexual routine that he had figured out, because that was less awful than the alternative (that he spent his entire time in his house listening to whatever I was doing and following me from room to room) Seriously, I wasn’t even LOUD.
All the men who have ever openly stared at my boobs (I understand men like to look at boobs, and that’s fine, but at least wait till I’m looking the other way. It’s polite, and suggests you see me as a human being rather than an inconvenient life support system for a pair of tits)
Obviously the guy who sexually assaulted me when I was eight.
And the time I walked over to say hello to a guy in a club and smiled at him, and before I had even opened my mouth he looked me up and down and said loudly to all his mates: “As if I’d be interested in HER!”…..as the words “I know your brother, you’re Andy, right?” died on my lips.
The one who walked up to me in a bar and said: “I just wanted to tell you I hate tattoos on women.” The one who insisted on taking my phone number (I was very drunk) and I woke up the next day to four missed calls and 12 increasingly angry “why haven’t you replied” texts. The one who said “When you’re my woman I won’t allow you to wear short skirts like that.” The time I was walking home and a guy followed me and then started talking to me and tried to talk his way into my house. The time I was walking home and a guy started talking to me and started to stroke my hair and my coat and tell me I was pretty and I had to duck into a kebab shop and wait until he went (presumably to find someone else; what the hell do you do to stop him, but I feel shitty about that)
And those are only my stories, and I’ve actually got off not too badly judging from what I’ve heard. I have some absolute hair-raisers from other people; one of the worst being a story from one of my best friends about the time she got really drunk and went home with a guy; she was too drunk to have sex so he accepted that and made her a bed on his sofa (because he genuinely WAS a nice guy). He went to bed himself and she woke up in the middle of the night to find his flatmate giving her a vigorous raping.
Do you know, I don’t think I have ever broken it down like that. It feels really good to get all that off my chest haha
@CheeseChocobo
I do know nice men. Lots of them. But the thing is, nice good men need to speak up and tackle this crap. Because the men who do do it – yes they are the exception, but they make women scared of the rest of you. Silence gives consent; if you’re silent when you hear predatory men shit-talking, they will assume you agree with them.
Women often get criticised for not trusting men and for talking like it is all men who do this. Well, the stakes are high for us. Misplaced trust for women means at best being made very uncomfortable; it means bullying, sexual coercion and rape; at its worst, it means murder. That is a very big risk to take and it is much more sensible to be cautious.
So tell you what, if you want to do some good, call out a predator next time you hear him tell a story or make a joke. If you want to help, that’ll do just fine 🙂
<3, Violet and Buttercup and – well, everyone. Life's a bumpy ride. I find myself with a lack of words on this, for other reasons, so I'll just say how glad I am for how strong you are, and how very much I value you.
@CheeseChocobo, you did a good there. Being able to read the signs, stop, reverse, and try a new direction is a very hard thing to do. Few people can do it. You deserve credit for being able to. Hopefully you can understand why saying "not all men" can be damaging now. It's true that not-all-men-are-awful, but men don't come with labels to tell us which are and aren't, and there's enough of them out there that a random shake of the dice is pretty scary. Talking about men as a group is really all we can do – many good, but enough bad that it's a population trait, if you want to be all dorky statistical about it.