A Disturbing Case of Sexuality

It's not often that I've been hit on. K claims that a girl at Kennesaw State once hit on me by telling me that I looked like John Lennon back when I had long hair. We'd gone to the campus to watch a high school friend of K's perform in a concert. The girl who supposedly hit on me was actually pretty good looking, so it didn't even cross my mind that I might have just been hit on, but it's the only time I can ever remember K getting jealous. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away before that little skank hippy could get her claws in me. I think that was as flattering as having been hit on by a stranger, actually.

The only other time I've ever been hit on was an instance that I'm not as proud of. My sister had found a cat, a long-haired thing with Siamese coloring that she had kept in her dorm at Mercer. The campus policy was that only fish were allowed as pets, so my sister named the cat Fish in order to stay within the letter of the law. Unfortunately, Courtney moved off campus and the cat went to K for some reason. Of course, the cat was barely out of the kitten stage when K got her, so she'd never been spayed. Neither K nor I had ever been around a cat in heat before. We always spayed ours growing up to avoid the plague of kittens that came with neglecting that duty and K never really had pets growing up, so we were both a little surprised at what happened a couple of months after Fish's arrival.

A cat going in heat really shouldn't have been that big of deal, but it turned into quite the creepy experience for me. The reason for my emotional discomfort came from the fact that I was the only thing remotely masculine in the entire house. K was female. The other cat was female. Bella, the dog, was female. Unfortunately, I was the only thing with a penis and that cat wanted it.

That's right; a cat once hit on me. Female cats get quite showy when they go into heat. They rub up on the male cat, present themselves for mounting, and yowl eerily. Dogs aren't quite so obvious about their needs in this area of life, but cats are apparently the dumb, blonde, pop stars of the domesticated animal world. When they feel sexual, they show it.

Fish would rub up on me and present her posterior proudly while I tried to ignore her or lock her in another room. These weren't exactly advances I was happy to be receiving, for the obvious reason that I'm not into interspecies relationships of a romantic nature.

Of course, maybe it was just the lack of subtlety that disturbed me so much. Maybe if the cat had just said that she thought I looked like John Lennon, I would have been flattered and politely turned her down.

Then again, I'm not sure how I would have reacted had that girl at KSU had behaved toward me in the same way that Fish did. I actually think I would have been creeped out in much the same way, although I have to admit that I would also be much more interested in that display. After all, some guys pay good money for that kind of treatment.