How Not To Fall For Creeps

As all these crappy stories with two-line openers turn out,  “I went to X and met X” – just like that, the man I man was a bona fide C to the reep. Not in the actually cute, geeky-knows-stuff-about-books-music-tv-film-manga-art etc but someone with almost deadly, villanous superpowers of manipulation. The actual person who, well, tries-to-insert-penis-into-your-brain…that kind of creep.

Spilling your heart’s guts out to someone like this, I learned, was a one-way ticket to this place where this guy knew everything about me – and then proceeded to use it as a way of moulding his own life history – especially anything that evoked sympathy – to form identically mine. Sort of like Lex Luthor’s Parasite from Superman (eeuu). At the time, I didn’t think he was a weirdo. I’d talk to him on the basis that he was an understanding person and that I could be there for him as a friend too (or as I thought, not trying to get into my pants) even though my actual guts and backbone were going off like sirens… which in any cultural notebook, suggests I was making a mistake.

He used the term “we” alot. And “we are the same”, and “I could help you with that”  and “you’re special to me”, “you’re too cool to have a boyfriend” until it finally became “YOU SHOULD BREAK UP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND AND SLEEP WITH ME”. Woah, MF. Not cool. And make a mistake I did: the whole time, he’d used my tragi-history and trust as a way of getting closer to me. Oh – and all of this was done over instant messenger (although looking back, not actually opting to meet this person ever again after they thrust their phone number and email address on me was a brilliant idea).  

I’ve since learned that this is known as being ‘eaten alive’ – or rather, showing your vulnerability to someone who only wants to use you. It’s quite vampiresque really, and rather similar to the disempowering bullshit that Stephanie Meyer peddles on a frequent basis. However, when this tale is told correctly, is interestingly not too dissimilar to when a superhero meets an equal, who, after a series of near-death battles, turns out to be a real manipulative bad-ass.

So , really, this isn’t even a story. Nor so much a tale of when I met Paul Daniels… or that guy who has the self-help books about How He Can Make You Sleep/Thin/Happy/Rich and that. No, none of that. The following is a set of tips about how to avoid the guy who obviously idolises these people – and then attempts to use these skills for his own ends. The Machiavellian Player. Only, nowhere near as smooth and in no way of Shakespeare’s standard.

How Not To Fall For Creeps

So while I’ve written this very selfishly remind myself  to swerve hastily away from those who make up the collective POS, it’s also for your benefit of course: here’s how you can spot them for a mile off.

This probably applies to weird-ass women as well. So, chaps, feel free to apply the same rules.


AND BAM! He’s almost got you to suck him off. But not quite: think, girl, think. He got it from all those bad films. He says babe in as delicate a way as he can. And he’s always here for you…. NO HE’S NOT. HE’LL SMELL YOUR HAIR COLLECT YOUR CRISP LITTER AND SKIN SAMPLES.

See, when the strange man tried to hypnotise me into liking him, he made me feel sorry for him. He was misunderstood. A bit of a bad boy. But with a caring side that no-one saw and that’s why he was a writer of films. He said he felt like a timelord. And he actually said all of these things in a way that people go ‘Honestly though’ – when they’re prefixing something that sure as hell ain’t honest.

It was odd. He seemed to summon dark, quasi-psychological spirits as he spoke in slow, low tones that typically are reserved only for the most hilarious of narrative ‘storied’ pornographies. And with that he’d pretend to understand me. That, I was somehow “different to all the others, and you often feel you’ve had to struggle through life? I get that.” After much drinking and luckily no GHBing (watch for that) this was closely followed by:


It’s a story as old as time. This is where it gets funny. Of course it sounds interesting and while this guy’s simultaneously trying to remind you of your vulnerabilities and deciphering how to use those against you in order to win your genitals, just ask one simple, business-based question to throw his insecurity grenades way off target:

“Oh, it sounds great. So who’s distributing your work?”


While he scrambles round for an answer, attempting to bury his fictional world inside a coffin of reasons including “well, it has had interest but nothing has been confirmed, although I’ve definitely got three other people who are acting with you too…but I haven’t written anything in concrete”…just stifle your internal laughter and order a water.

There was this one guy who, after a bit of mental jujitsu; I’d deflected his every attempt at getting in deep and asking him nicely to go home, just went for the gun and finally said under a cough: “ireallywannafuckyou” – hmmm, yeah…ummmm- NO.


Hahahhahahahahhahahhahahhahahahhahahhahahhahahahahahahhahahahhahahaahahahhahah NO.


By all means ‘n’ methods. Asking about your personal life very early on; being oddly probing about how you grew up – alone or with siblings? “With or without friends? Why are you having problems with your partner/parents/boss? Tell me about them. I understand you.”

…Look. If it feels like an extremely weird question and this person never talks about themselves unless they’re bragging, go with your gut because it’s probably screaming GET OUT OF THE WAY OF THE TRAIIIN WREEEECCCCK! which is the person in front of you.

…Look. If it feels like an extremely weird question and this person never talks about themselves, go with your gut because it’s probably screaming GET OUT OF THE WAY OF THE TRAAIIN WREEEECCCCK!

Mate: it’s your total fail if you reply out of politeness. You’ll inherently feel like you’re tied to that person either for fear of future emerging skeletons. Some people call them ’emotional vampires’; personally I call these people ’emotional whores’. There is an element of dopamine abuse here, to say the least.

In my own experience, females can be poisonous with this. They store up your personal back catalogue and use it against you years later. When I was at school, a girl who was my best friend forever felt annoyed at me for not letting her look at my homework in order to do better on her own. I called her out on it, and after escalating bitchery she shouted ‘WELL AT LEAST I DON’T LIVE IN A COUNCIL HOUSE!’

At the time I was upset.

A day later I thought: fuck you. Yeah. I’m way poorer than you and STILL way smarter. Wait – why should I even be ashamed? And why are we friends?

Huge win for me. That realisation was a hugely freeing moment and helped me figure out who I wanted to be.


It’s called belittling for a reason. With words like ‘little’, ‘small’, ‘kid’, ‘princess’, ‘littl’un’ and so on. Not fun.


I don’t condone thinking that your don’t like yourself- but if there’s any chink in your armour of self-perception, a creep will seek to turn it into a broken suit. We’re all quite weird, but the ultra-weirdo uses something a little something called The Fact Of Life is No One Is 100% Confident of Themselves. So please remember that you’re awesome.

Play this.

You’re awesome, over and out.

Don’t let them eat you alive.

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