This entry is dedicated to all the assholes of the world, but especially in Baltimore
On Sunday I was walking to the supermarket with Matt and Emily when a car honked at us. "I find it so hard not to look up when someone does that," I said. "Back home and in college that meant that the people in the car knew you. But here it means someone want to get to know you."
"I just don't understand," Matt said. "With the law of positive reinforcement, some women must be reacting favorably so that these guys keep honking."
"I think they get the reinforcement from their friends," Emily said.
You know, if I got to be a man for one day, besides the fascination that my new plumbing would cause, the one thing I'd want to do is just walk down the street. I don't get remarks and honks every time, but it happens enough that I'm always dreading it. I just ignore them or say no if a guy pulls up offering a ride, but here's what I wish I could say:
While walking down the street
"Hey baby, what's your name?"
"It's definitely not Baby, and as for my name, I don't believe we've been introduced. But apply to my father at the next cotillion, and perhaps he'll allow you to propose to me."
While waiting for the bus, a car pulls up to me
"Hey, do you want a ride?"
"Hmm, spend $1.60 for the bus, or get into a car with a stranger and risk rape and murderment. I only make 85 dollars a month, and the bus still seems like a better deal."
To the guy who made a crude sexual offer to me while I was walking to Johns Hopkins
He just gets the crap beaten out of him.
To all the assholes honking at me
I take a running leap and land on the roof of their car and do a little jig. "Oh, you didn't want me to dance and dent the roof of your car? I'm sorry, I always assume that's what men want when they honk their horn at me. Boy, that's the fifth misunderstanding this week! Toodles!"
