Op-Ed: Stop Looking At Me

I know what you’re doing. You’re standing there, no...sitting. And I’m standing because I’m stronger than you. You’re an absolute freak and you have this weird urge to move your head and eyes up towards me and the direction that I am standing in. Stop what you’re doing immediately and stop looking at me - seriously stop. But if you are going to look at me, please notice how my butt looks in these pants but stop looking right now okay immediately stop it. I’m so serious. 

Now that you’re in my brain (which is just a leaking carton of spoiled milk) and understand how it feels to be someone who gets looked at for no reason, we can talk. Sometimes I’m not even doing anything exciting and then someone decides to cast their eyes my way, which, for the record, is mean. Like the time I was in a Thai restaurant and said something loudly in a Christopher Walken voice and a white man with broad shoulders looked up from his cellphone to see who could be doing something like that. It’s ridiculous. No one should look at anyone ever unless they’re me and the person I’m looking at is exactly my type of romantic interest (tall, brunette, and wears glasses) or someone that I just accidentally made eye contact with because that happens sometimes. Then it’s okay. 

If you’re reading this and you think that you should be looking at me, you shouldn’t. It’s that simple. Unless I look really good, in which case fine that’s okay. But if you look at me for too long, then I’ll decide that we’re in love and that we should go apple picking upstate together with our two kids and the aging golden retriever that we rescued from a nearby animal shelter. This is only applicable if you are taller than me and expect to make an income of $100K plus in the next year, but I’m still warning you regardless. This is a threat or a promise depending on what you think about me, the imaginary person that you literally can’t stop staring at. My advice to you? Stop looking at me. Stop it now. 

At the end of the day, I hate to be looked at. People love to look at me when I leave the house or open a door, and I look back at them because I am brave and need to see what their face looks like while they look at me. Mostly, I look back so that I can give them a look that says “stop looking at me.” It is both my deepest passion and my greatest burden. My advice to everyone in the general public? Stop looking at me. Stop. There are plenty of other things to look at, like the grass or the inside of your naked little eyelids. So, do everyone a huge favor and look at those things instead.