Thursday, March 21, 2013

Just the Cat Call I Needed

Photo credit: Jonas Tana
I've had a fairly deflating week personally, for reasons I won't go into here.

I also exploded all over my Facebook page with horror and a healthy dose of F-bombs over some choice news stories this week, including the heinous reaction to the Steubenville verdict, the complete failure of our spineless Legislature to even vote on a totally common-sense assault weapons ban and this quote from "The Retro Wife" piece in New York Magazine:

I feel like in today's society, women who don't work are bucking the convention we were raised with...Why can't we just be girls? Why do we have to be boys and girls at the same time?

Really? Really? You think you're the avant guard of some superior back-to-nature movement? If you are able to choose to stay home, and want to stay home, GREAT! But don't act like you are part of some grand sociological movement. Get a clue, you over-privileged, under-thoughtful disgrace to the legacy of Betty Friedan, Rebecca West and others who fought for your ability to have that choice.

And while you're at it, why don't you start referring to yourself as a woman; maybe then I will consider taking you seriously. 


So, that's the state of mind in which I found myself while walking to the subway to meet my husband and some friends for dinner. As if that weren't enough, I was feeling, as usual, disgusted with my body, which made me loathe myself even more for internalizing the generally misogynistic culture typified by some of aforementioned.

You know what else I needed? To be cat called by two short, fat, limping, cigarette-smoking, semi-illiterate-sounding men.

"You lookin' good tonight," I heard as I passed through their disgusting cloud of smoke.

(Tell me, do certain cigarettes smell worse than others? Are cheap ones or American ones more foul-smelling? Because these were revolting.)

"I like those boots," he continued. "Look at that ripe ass," he said to his friend as I walked mercifully out of earshot.

Yeah, that's exactly what I needed tonight.

Like an effing hole in the head. From a bullet from some sociopath's assault weapon he purchased at a gun show without even showing identification, because that's the world we live in. One where Bumbo Baby Seats are recalled and you can't legally drive a car without insurance but buying a gun is a matter of course.

Someone wake me up from this nightmare.