On the other hand, in the real world sometimes that works out okay, and if the woman doesn't have enough faith in her own agency to ignore it, or shove the guy out of a moving vehicle, then she's assisting in her own harassment. It's their job to say yes, and our job to say whatever we actually want, and our responsibility to mean it. But I've never found this particular Edward Culleny full-court press very attractive, because at the very least it presumes that I'm either so retarded or so sexless that I need help figuring out whether or not I want to fuck you. Trust me when I say, I already know the answer to that one. And yes, everybody likes to be pursued.
I guess the only way out of this particular sexual Viet Nam is just, know your privilege, learn to read a room, but also learn to accurately gauge the other person's ability to read the room. If you're being too subtle, and you are aware that you're being too subtle, it's not contingent on the guy to knock it off at that point because you're the one making the choice, and that is for unsavory reasons. I mean, this has been going on for a year. Your self-respect is in question. Both of you.
Michelle: "It's not like you built me a car or something. I have an audition tomorrow. How about instead of me, you take... Five of these showgirls to dinner? Like a harem. Like a sad, sad harem. Very Vegas."
Hubbell: "Only because they can convey my stalker messages of love back to you."
Harem: "If being treated like objects were a huge deal for us, we wouldn't have this job."
Harem: "So what do we have to do for this dinner?"
Michelle: "Uh, nothing? It's 2012?"
Harem: "Each year men get more and more fucked up."
Hubbell: "I also bought you Dr. Scholls!"
Michelle shows up at the audition, is welcomed by tiny little Jimmy Hewson and introduced to the director, and then:
Michelle: "But I'm 25?"
Director: "Really? But also, no."
Michelle: "I am a good dancer!"
Director: "I didn't say you weren't. That's not what this is about."