Insta-slam

Instagram offers new, exciting opportunities for women to flaunt their selfies, nails and leggings. And to publicly shame their suitors.

More than a fair few young women my age seem to think it leaves a cute or desirable impression to post snapshots of a guy’s unanswered pleas for their attention.

An adorably irresistible caption like “the thirst is real” or “get the hint” usually accompany the photo, ensuring her unattainable status is not lost on her
followers.

But since when is it cool to disrespect a nice guy’s attempt at texting you?

I’m not talking about the creepy drunk guy you met a party less than an hour ago that offers to come tuck you in and give you a back massage after you rebuff his initial offer to share a bottle of wine and play with his kittens. You know, hypothetically.

You shouldn’t give that guy your number in the first place.

You can also ignore your roommate’s insistence that it’s “stupid” to sleep with the lights on that night.

I’m referring to the casual and what-ought-to-remain private efforts at conversation that, in between the duckfaces and Myspace angles taken in front of a dirty bathroom mirror, women use to humiliate a guy who did little more than express interest.

But given the societal pressures on guys to make the first move, I can see how the sexual innuendo of “Hey” and heavy erotic implications of “How’s your day?” would confuse these amateur photographers.

I mean who knows what “what’s up?” is code for, am I right, ladies?

Probably his penis. How lurid.

I hope the police follow your account and are on their way to his house right now to clap him in irons for sexual harassment.

But wait. Though it’s common knowledge the winky-face emoticon is basically pure, graphic seduction, maybe a few friendly hellos on the part of a gentleman caller is not necessarily sleazy.

I’m not saying every guy is only after your friendship.

 I’m not naïve — this is college, but when it’s a fact most girls tend to fall for a dude only when ignored, it’s kind of commendable for a noble sir to brave the friend zone and make the first attempt at conversation.

No knight ever won a fair lady’s heart without being bold.

Even if said guy is funny, polite and has a deep knowledge of T.S. Eliot, he still might have to borrow his friend’s puppy just to get a girl to smile in his direction, if only at the slobbery little guy known as man’s best friend straining at his legs.

The point of my argument, then, is not “chicks love trippin’.”

Sacrificing a guy’s pride and privacy on the altar of Instagram in an attempt to appear sought-after is not only tacky, but a twinge desperate.

Chill out, you’re not famous.

Your followers will love your pictures of gym flow and food porn without all the fanfare.

­— ashhendr@indiana.edu