By: Kevin Enilc
Kelly was normal at first, as far as liberal college girls go. I met Kelly in my Colonization to Civil War American History class, and I thought she was uniquely beautiful. Short, dark hair, intensely dark eyes, and the deepest dimples I’ve ever seen. After a couple of weeks of awkward flirting and winks (I know, Mr. Smooth over here), I finally got her number. At this point all I knew about her ties to femi-nazism were her passing mentions of Tumblr and her support of Bernie Sanders. Going to a liberal college, this is to be expected from 70 percent of the girls on campus. No red flags, just some scattered yellows. Let me tell you though, it spiraled out of control from there.
Like all young flings, it started off innocently enough. Some flirty texting back and forth, some NSFW snapchats, we got to know each other beyond passing glances in class and we had enough in common to warrant some interest. Sometimes we would exchange random memes and pictures related to inside jokes. I started to notice the increasingly large amount of Tumblr screenshots and references in our text conversations. There were some backhanded comments; if I said something she didn’t like, she made a point to let me know. The warning signs were starting to flash, but I ignored them like the stupid, white cis gendered male I am. I blame the patriarchy.
We finally made plans to meet for a movie and dinner. About halfway through the movie, she asked if we could leave. I was pretty irritated because I wanted to see it, but the movie was making her uncomfortable, but we left anyway. This is the first time she asked me if I “felt like an asshole.” I was confused, I had not done anything wrong, so I brushed off the comment. I said something about getting food or coffee; the whole situation had thrown me for a loop so I was officially off my “game.”
We headed to her car and I went to get in the passenger seat like a normal adult, but it was cluttered with books and other refuse. “Uhhh, you can get in the back,” she said. “Are you serious?” I asked. The glare I received in response was enough, apparently she was serious. We spent some time talking in circles about whether we wanted food or coffee, whether it was too late for coffee, and where we would go now. We ended up at a small study area on campus with bean bag chairs, it was quiet place to talk. I probably should have run away at this point, and the red flags were officially slapping me in the face, but I’m stubborn.
As we conversed and I tried to decipher the mystery behind me being an asshole for taking us to a movie, I started to discover I was constantly being put on the defensive. I was already thrown off by the whole movie incident, and now I was getting cornered with questions that seemed more accusing than inquisitive. The harder she pushed, the harder I pushed back and I ended up becoming an asshole defensively. The night ended on a sour note and she gave me another backseat chauffeur ride to my truck. I thought that was the end of it…..but boy was I wrong.
During a short text discussion the next day I was seduced back into the clutches of the Tumblrina. Now that I was the schmuck on the hook, her SJW flag was waving full force. As I described in one of the text conversations above, I felt like I was walking on egg shells at all times with Kelly. The triggers were everywhere, so I never knew when I would step on one, it was a nerve-racking experience to say the least. During my short attempt at salvaging something out of this growing train wreck, I went to breakfast with her to give it one last shot. After she ate an entire short stack of pancakes and a 4-egg omelet with sides (I swear she wasn’t a big girl, I don’t know where she put it), and I enjoyed another ride in the back seat; I decided she had already wasted enough of my time.
Kelly was an interesting view into the world of Tumbrina SJWs. It’s not something I want to experience ever again though. Ever. My humble advice; if you encounter a seemingly fair maiden whose feminist SJW tendencies haven’t bloomed into full-blown Trigglypuff yet, run for your life…it’s only a matter of time.
[Name was changed for privacy purposes.]
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