It must have been the girlish and irresistible swish of my ponytail, as I walked unobtrusively down the sidewalk in the yellow lamp light, that caught their attention.
A gang of neaderthals, coversing amongst themselves with sophistication and posh in the dark, dank parking lot, complete with the classic wino accessory: beer bottles in brown paper bags.
Such a concentration of testosterone was bound to cause a stir; they would have been itching for it, gagging for it, awaiting eargerly the arrival of their nightly entertainment — any female.
Hardly surprising, and quite common place. Men, frankly, especially in such a context, can not be trusted to behave rationally around women. I find it quite funny that it was women who were made to prove themselves to be persons.
It was not that I caught their attention, that was always unavoidable — the particulars in such situations are irrelevant, and by that I mean myself. Whatever I was wearing, whatever my appearence and general level of attractiveness, my manner as a whole towards them and my surroundings . . .
The curiosity in this occurence was the shocking misogyny I experienced. I had expected a few “hey girly” remarks and then muttering about my being a stuck-up bitch when I invariably, rightly, and completely ignored them (well, on the outside at the very least. You can never help but to hear and to see, can you? It always gets you.)
Rather, when I failed my duty as a cordial host for their gentlemanly respects, I was gobsmacked by an outright “BITCH”. Jeese, I had at least expected that for *after* their failed attemtps at wooing, and as a slightly more subdued reflection amongst themselves with their unjustly struck hearts.
What is wrong with people? No. What is wrong with men? These were 30 year old adults . . . the sheer number and frequency of such occurences is proof that my all encompassing statement of “what is wrong with men” is not in reality unjust, or unreasonable, or the product of a “wounded bird”.
There is something in the relations between males and females that cannot be eradicated, no matter the pressure of civilized society or the supremity of morals.
Just hope for men who are at least semi-decent people (do not expect them to be like you), even if they are probably just pretending to be so in your presence, so as to not offend your delicate feminine sensibilities.
This is was in downtown Peterborough, where street harassment happens quite often despite it being only three blocks long.
So, in effect, the world can be a horrible place. But, hey, isn’t that just life, like they say?