You Know What I Hate?

(Warning: swearing ahead.)

I hate the accusatory, entitled tone some old dude takes when I don’t answer his “bonjour mademoiselle” the first time around, as much as I hate the woman behind him scoffing at my abrupt answer as I keep walking.

What do you expect? I’m happily buzzing in my own world and thoughts, listening to my music and going about my business. I’m out for groceries, not a conversation.

I hate being honked at while unlocking my front door only to see some random ass dude waving at me from his camionnette.

It’s also slightly terrifying because that person now knows where I live.

I hate seeing a group of guys turn around to watch me walk away.

Don’t give me that “boys will be boys” bullshit.

I hate being told “give me a smile” just as I hate always being caught off guard and giving them attention they don’t deserve.

You’re not entitled to anything: not me, my time, or my smile.

But I hate it even more because this shit only happens when I wear a fucking dress.

Apologies for the language (and the blazing inferno heat behind this) but given the first happened barely an hour ago, I had to share. So there you have my compilation. It’s also a vain attempt to make up for my lack of March Monthly Blurb (inspiration disappeared, hopefully it’ll come back).

I’m sure a lot of people can relate to this Snapshot, dress or no dress (it’s just a lot more pronounced when it is a dress), and it really pisses me off. I’m now out of words.

Fight on,
Ali J.

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