Compliments from guys will never be as powerful as those from women
I’m a server at a beer hall. It’s one where the target audiences are men who watch sports and the women attempting to impress them on their beer knowledge.
As a straight woman working at a college town bar, one expects flirtation from the opposite sex at places like these, shots being bought for me at the tables, and even having my night topped off with numbers written on receipts. However, this isn't always the case, at least not from men.
I want to start by describing my uniform. We're forced to wear a blue V-Neck shirt, dark jeans, brown shoes, and, if it is cold outside, a plaid flannel jacket. I’m five-foot-two with brown hair, and when I don’t have my contacts in, I wear over-sized glasses.
I guess you could say I resemble a nerdy, small lumberjack. I'm never feeling myself in it.
One night, it was slow, and I had a table that just sat down — three girls, two guys. I needed tips, and I didn’t know the relationships between the customers, so naturally, being overly-friendly was the way to go.
When they closed out their checks, the customers kept giggling, watching for when I was going to pick up the receipts. Figuring they were just drunk off the liter beers they kept ordering, I waited until they left.
I picked up the receipts and later entered in my tips to the system. It was then I found out why the table was so giddy.
One receipt said:
“(850) ***-**** If you happen to be bisexual you’re really cute :)”
My cheeks flushed red as I showed my co-worker. On the outside, I was self-conscious. Do I look like I attract women?
On the inside, I was insanely flattered. Oh, fuck yeah, I can attract both men and women. I’m fucking bionic.
And that’s when it hit me. If a man had flirted with me, I would just see the bigger tip at the end of the dining experience. If a man had just bought me a shot, it would be ordinary. If a man had written his number on a receipt, I would have laughed and thrown it out. It is immensely more flattering for a woman to compliment another woman.
Studies show that 66 percent of women dress up with other women in mind hoping to achieve compliments from another female. Most women are more observational than men are. They understand the time and effort that goes in to getting ready. Therefore, when other women acknowledges this process, it’s building up the concept of women empowerment.
It is more than just, You’re hot.
It’s, Wow, the arch of your brow is fierce!
There is an envy factor to it as well. Found in a listicle of tweets are many women dignifying compliments from not just other women, but also from other women who they deem to be pretty. Women find it even better to be complimented by women they find pretty, because they hold these women to a higher standard.
It might sound slightly degrading, but think of it this way:
A woman who you believe to have awful style compliments your outfit versus a woman who you envy compliments your outfit — chances are, women will find it more pleasing to be complimented by the woman they hold to a higher standard. Unfortunate, but it is what it is.
Also, when it comes down to a woman’s physical body, there is a far bigger difference in compliments coming from a male versus a female. For example, when a man compliments a woman’s boobs, it's borderline creepy. Thoughts of them undressing us with their eyes picturing our bodies in silky lace pajamas come to mind.
Meanwhile, when a girl compliments another girl’s boobs, it’s exciting because it is usually stated within a different pretext.
To most women, the man complimenting them is followed by a silent: so, can you take off your shirt and let me see?
To most women, a woman doing it is followed by a silent: damn, I wonder where her bra is from. I want it.
Even though the woman who complimented me was bisexual, or lesbian, whatever she may have been, and was attempting to hit on me, the motivation behind the compliment was interpreted differently.
It's that motivation and interpretation behind compliments that matter.
Update: I never did text my lady admirer. But maybe, just maybe …