So. James Franco. What’s more interesting than the actual incident are the online reactions from Women. Some are clutching their pearls and calling him a pedofile, even though in New York the age of consent is 17. Some are shocked that men in their 30’s hit on 17 year olds. Really? Were you never 17 and hit on by a 35+ year old dude? Some are delusioned convinced it’s PR stunt for his new movie because it’s about a soccer coach who sleeps with a 14 year old…based on a book he wrote. I’m gonna keep my thoughts on that to myself. Yes, even after James Franco admitted to doing it, they still think it’s planned attention whoring instead of being caught at average attention whoring.

Then there are the women who are upset that he is treating a 17 year old like a mere prostitute, while praising the girl for saying no and outing him, but admit that if they were in her shoes they would have done it. Huh? Lastly, there are the fangirls that are slut-shaming the 17 year old. How does that work? So we are slut-shaming girls who actually don’t have sex, because the guy you have a crush on wants to have sex with her? That’s what we’re doing now ladies? Good to know.

I think the most disturbing thing for me is his game. He was super thirsty. He was acting like a 15 year old virgin, who resembles a distant cousin to Quasimodo, and thought this was his only slim shot of getting laid. James, do you not have groupies? You know you don’t have to go down that way? There’s an easier way. Right? Maybe he still needs to feel the thrill of the chase sometimes. Shrug.

It’s weird to live in a culture where most women go gaga over these famous attention whores  ‘creative, intellectual’ guys, especially since their desirability is mostly smoke and mirrors. I bet if they really met most of these guys, they would cringe. And in reality, these guys probably have a distorted view about women and intimacy because of the groupies and yes men.  I mean just read the gossip columns.

Just like this successful director and actor I went out with. Well I remembered another story.

Back in my LA days, I went to a friends movie set, just cuz, and met a friend of a friend of his that was a steadily working actor. He had one of those aspirational names that made you wonder if he changed it so he could be unique. Let’s call him ‘Journey’. He seemed really cool and we had a few hobbies in common and he wanted to show me some Cool Places in relation to these hobbies. I was real excited about these places but when I pitched the idea to my boyfriend at the time, he was not cool with me hanging out with some dude I just met. I invited my boyfriend to tag along but he was still not reassured down. So I cancelled my new friendship plan and didn’t hang out with Journey, though we exchanged polite emails.

Time passed and the boyfriend and I broke up. Journey contacted me out of the blue some time after. I was not attracted to him but I was attracted to access to those cool places. So I thought, okay we’ll be friends and I’ll get to see these cool places and he’ll have the pleasure of my company and attention. Because that’s always a good trade -off because guys usually go for it and I am pretty awesome to hang with. We agree to have friendly drinks to catch up. Let me remind you that there was no flirting! Not even from him. Everything was just conversational.

I meet him at his place. OUTSIDE, BITCHES, OUTSIDE. He invited me in, of course, but I wanted to get to the drinking because I had plans to meet up with my real friends later. We go to this nice wine bar and order. We generally catch up and the wine arrives and things were going my way okay. Until-

While talking he put his hand on my knee.

I picked it up like a wet cloth and tossed it back to his lap. His response?

“Are you religious?”

It’s literally what came out of his mouth. “I’m not fucking religious, I just don’t want you to touch me,” I replied. He then brought up several topics as to why I was such a prude without actually calling me one. Was I a feminist? Daddy issues? Insecure? Body Issues? Like he really was confused as to why I would not want to be fondled touched by him.

At this point I realized that I would be meeting my friends sooner than planned. I also realized that all the cool places and connections he allegedly had wasn’t gonna be worth spending any more time in the same room with him. He then changed tactics subjects. He talked about all the movies he’d been in, all the parts he was up for, the celebrities he knew and worked with, all the awards he won for some karate kid wannabe sport he competed in before becoming an actor, etc. BORING!

If we’re gonna talk about the awesomeness of someone, that someone is gonna be me. But I would settle for talking about opinions, recent news, or jokes even. Somehow, he misinterpreted my look of trying not to fall asleep and leaned in for a kiss.

I pushed him back before he reached my face and said “What are you doing?”

He replied, “Oh, you weren’t feeling that?”

“No.”

This non-date was over. I didn’t even finish the glass of wine. I told him I had to meet up with some people and we had to leave. He didn’t believe me and demanded proof that I had somewhere else to go. He was stunned that I was ready to go and was leaving him. Stunned. And then he tried to Shame me about the validity of my excuse to leave.

Whatever. Listen, I have NO shame. I especially don’t have shame in lying, and even less shame lying to an Annoying Douche, and even less shame than that, being caught in lying to an annoying douche. Has never bothered me. What did bother me was that I was actually telling him the truth. I did not show him proof. I told him I would wait at my car as he paid for the drinks. I drove him back to his place. I didn’t even park, I just stopped on the street for him to get out. He invited me in again. I said no again, then sped off.

I get it. Guys are gonna try to bust a move on you on dates, and occasionally on non-dates. But what made this guy creepy was that he was operating in an everyone-wants-to-fuck-me nonreality, and not in, well, reality. One minute we are talking, and the next he is dry humping my leg. WTF.

Looking back, I realize that dates and non-dates go way better when you go out with someone because of who they are, versus what you think they could give you. Eh, live and learn.