I’m walking out as he’s walking in, and I consider lingering for just a moment. But I stick with the original plan and head somewhere else instead so I can sit and sip on a cocktail with my girlfriend while I silently wonder if he misses me. He doesn’t. If he missed me, he would call or text. If he missed me, I wouldn’t have gotten away so easily. Maybe those few passing moments of, “Hey, wussup, hello,” were enough to vaunt me into his current thoughts, although I wonder how fleeting his memory is. How many drinks will it take before he forgets to text me again. I realize that I can’t be bothered with someone who can’t be bothered with texting me with any less frequency than the slew of male platonic friends I have out there who bother to check in with me at least twice a week. I appreciate casual sex because it’s casual, but when it becomes completely disinterested sex, I wonder what the point is.
Which is why I left the bar, even though I saw him walking in. Even though half of the reason I was at that bar was to see him, but that’s fine. I was with all my friends, and while part of me is concerned that showing up at that bar made me look thirsty, well, there’s something to be said for the strength of human emotion. And its manifestation as desire for another human being beyond all logic. Luckily, I have managed to dial it down from that extreme into the mere, “hope I run into him at a bar so I can remember exactly how much I enjoyed fucking him,” that went through my head tonight.
I do not head back to the bar where I know he is right now because that would be too easy. Not for me, but for him. It would be too easy for him to turn me down. And I would be standing there, feeling so tired but eager in a hopeless way, drinking too much and feigning pretty in the back of the bar. I don’t go to him, because he does not call me to him. And what is a woman who chases dick? Why, that is not a woman at all, but a girl. A monstrosity of femininity in an adult woman’s body. I leave because that is what women do when men do not beg to fuck. Beg to fuck me. If you don’t beg to fuck me, then we will never fuck. You have to fucking beg.
And then maybe we will sleep together.
“We need to get away from this culture in bars where it’s okay for men to go up to women and grope them. It’s just not okay.” I’m talking to my friend who DJs in local bars in Downtown Oakland, and I completely agree with him.
“Absolutely. I can name a few bars that I never go to because I’m sick of this shit happening.”
“Yeah, we need to do something to train security so that they can prevent women getting groped. It’s bad for business.”
“Yes. However, it’s kinda hard to discourage men treating women like pieces of meat on the dance floor when we’re playing music by Too $hort and the Ying Yang Twins. If you’re blasting “wait til you see my dick!” to the crowd but telling men not to flash their dicks at women…it can be a bit confusing.”
“Oh. Fuck. You’re right.”
“Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m a sex positive feminist, through and through, but, my god, do I love listening to Mac Dre rap about pimping women. It’s just…it’s so good!”
“Do you think it’s hypocritical to tell men to not grope women when we play music that tells them to do the exact opposite?”
“Nah. Not at all. People need to be able to separate artistic representation from their current reality through critical thinking. Granted, when you’re drunk at a club, that might not be on people’s mind. But we can enjoy the politically incorrect music of Too $hort while simultaneously respecting women. Shit ain’t that serious.”
“Yea, but people who come to dance to this music are probably a part of the culture that spawned it. Local rappers talk about pimping women because that’s what the local culture is all about.”
“Totally, but this is bars. Pimping doesn’t happen in Downtown Oakland bars. The music gets played, but the culture isn’t present. People come to bars to socialize and also to experiment with what is and isn’t socially acceptable, especially on a sexual level. If we nip that kind of sexually aggressive harassment in the bud, then we create a culture that condones appreciating local rap music but condemns disrespectful behavior without creating too much cognitive dissonance within the audience.”
“Yeah, I grew up listening to Too $hort. Love his music, but, damn, I am not down for disrespecting women like that.”
“If you can wrap your head around it, then so can anybody else. And the people who can’t, the people who expect to be able to grope and harass women – they’ll know that these bars are not the place for them and they should leave, or, if they want to stay, they’ll learn to accept the social code that disavows sexual harassment.”
“Training security to deal with this problem, and also letting women know that they can speak up against men who do this is going to help change this culture. So many times, women don’t know that if they’re being harassed that they should go to security first to get the guy 86’d. Dudes go to bars to talk to women, but if women don’t feel comfortable at a bar, they’ll leave, and that’s bad for business.”
“Yo, I am all down for you, as a man, doing everything to make me, as a woman, feel comfortable hanging out in bars. I also hold my own and will beef with any dude who tries to touch me in bars. It’s kinda funny, actually.”
“Yeah, well, long gone are the days when a woman in a bar was a dangerous thing to be. Or even tacky. Women of all ages hang out in bars now, and it’s totally socially acceptable.”
“Here’s to the rise of the female alcoholic bar fly!”
“You’re just talking about yourself now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
I know he doesn’t know this yet, but his true colors are showing. In the small things he does and the off handed comments he makes. I don’t really know what to do about it, as he says things that make it obvious that there is something deeply misogynistic and homophobic within him. He’s talking to me, and I don’t know why, although I do know that all of this comes from his desire for sex. His desire to fuck. And he talks to me, and I know what he wants from me, and I can see his utter inability to attain it And his frustration at that.
In the moment, I’m not quite sure what to do with this. He says nothing explicit or telling, but his misogyny and homophobia are peeking out around the edges. He touches me on the arm, innocuously so, and I know what that means. I shudder slightly. This homophobic, misogynistic man is infatuated with me, and how am I supposed to let him down. How am I supposed to make him go away? It’s a trick question, really, because I can’t make him go away. Due to extenuating circumstances, I will be forced to interact with him for an unknown amount of time.
He doesn’t know anything about me, but he’s infatuated with me nonetheless. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he knew about me existence on the Internet. Would he light up with surprise and delight if he knew that I’m a thot? Or would he be disgusted by me? I can’t even fathom which one it would be; I can only imagine that if he knew about me on the Internet, he would take it as a license to sexually harass me or be strangely violent with me. A man who hates women does not even know how to process his own hatred towards women, but, rather, acts on it impulsively and, even the face of reason, cannot be rationed with.
How do I move forward with this. And is it my responsibility to fix him? Because by fixing him, I invest in him. And when I invest my time and energy and emotion into fixing someone else’s broken psyche, I allow him into my life. I do not want him in my life, but I want him to be fixed. I want him to not be like this anymore, but I don’t want fixing him to be my job. Although, as he is broken now, and as he remains broken, how many other people will he break before he is fixed? Am I wasting precious time? I would rather fix society, and him in the process, than fix him and him alone, at the risk of so much of myself. Maybe that’s selfish.
How would I fix him anyways? What is the process for that? What kind of conversations am I supposed to have with a homophobic misogynist about feminism and sex positivity? Where do I even begin? How do I broach the subject gently and with tact? Isn’t there a support group I can send him to that will fix is messed up mind? An online tutorial? A YouTube video?
We converse like we always do. I laugh at his jokes, and I look away. Whose responsibility is to console this young man because he has no game and no pussy, and therefore treats me like this? Is it mine? Or should I just destroy him like I always do, mercilessly and ruthlessly. I am choosing the path of least resistance in a journey of pain.