When you sit there behind the TV, creepy closeted gay guy, staring at me while I watch hockey, it kinda creeps me out. When you wink at me every time I glance in your direction to see if you're still staring, it really creeps me out. When you ask me, "You like football, huh?" because you can't see that I'm watching hockey, it fucking annoys the hell out of me. When I finally approached you halfway through the second period and asked you what you wanted and called you out on your staring and winking, and you aggressively denied it and said you had been staring at the woman next to me who had been there for only five minutes, it pissed me off because you had no conviction, no integrity, and you just caved as I disempowered your voyeuristic intrusion into my personal space. If you want to fuck men you see in straight bars watching hockey, have some balls and say what you want when they call you on your shit. At least then, this cocksucker could have said, "I'm not interested," and we could have moved on with our lives. You didn't need to get kicked out of the bar, and I could have watched the third period.

—Anonymous