June 11, 2009

Cillian Murphy, stop touching my face

Not really Cillian Murphy, but a guy who looks a lot like Cillian Murphy touched my face the other day. One would think that this is a good thing. Cillian Murphy is, after all, a really attractive famoustype person. I think so, anyway. Plus, I saw his wang in 28 Days Later.

As I was in the midst of printing many things last week in preparation for Renegade, Alter-Cillian introduced himself to me in the print labs. We smiled to each other politely, the way strangers in the South walking down the same street probably do to each other.
Then he approached me directly to talk about how fabulous my glasses are. That's pretty forward, Alter-Cillian Murphy, I thought to myself.

"Wow, they're really unique, they really suit your face," he gushed.
I thanked him, even though they really aren't that unique because the day I bought them I saw 3 guys wearing the same frames in Williamsburg on the L train (Fuck).
He continued to talk about how I have a great style and he gets "really cool vibes" from me and my t-shirt I'm wearing is really cute.

Meanwhile, 85% of my body is covered in a painty apron and I am wearing an old schlumpy gray crew-neck tee and black-grey skinny jeans with Vans sk8-hi's. My hair was unwashed and unkempt and I wasn't really wearing any makeup. This was not a day to impress, it was a day to labor, after all.

Any conversation I'm in that is about me, lasting for longer than 45 seconds makes me really kind of embarassed and awkward and blush furiously.
This conversation felt like an eternity. Especially when he was standing within my "personal space bubble," which is defined approximately by the 3 foot radius around a person. People you just meet are not to enter that realm. This is sometimes called "getting all up in my face." I don't like it. It's generally not a cool thing to do.

I don't know why Cillian Murphy is trying so hard to bombard me with compliments. I mean, attractive people generally don't need to do that to get your attention.

The last straw, however, was when he stroked a strand of hair framing my face and said, "Is that a natural wave in your hair? That's really incredible."
This was after the few awkward times he attempted to accidentally-but-clearly-it-was-not-accidentally brush against or caress my hand/arm and that is really weird to do mid-conversation I think, and I pulled away more than once so why would you do it again, you weird sociopathic man?

He said he was raised in France for 17 years of his life (He looked to be in his late 20's)so that may explain the forward directness and lack of personal space and boundaries and touchy-feeliness. But I don't see that as an excuse so much because I don't think even French women are into that. In fact, I think French women are much more brush-off-y and self-possessed.

I politely said I had a lot of work to do and had to get back to work. He agreed and we both went back to our respective projects and the entire time I felt weirded out like he was watching me. Because he was.
I had the distinct impression that he probably wanted to wear my skin.

Which is a shame because it was all good until he opened his mouth. Le sigh.

No comments: