Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Girls Against Boys

A few months back, I asked some of my girl friends to tell me about pleasant and unpleasant experiences they've had with boys, in the hopes of enlightening some people out there. Maybe. Anyway, one of my friends wrote a really wonderful piece which I've been threatening to print, and now I am. Names changed to protect the innocent, cuz she knows who she is (thank you!).

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I think the majority of the cat-call days are over for me, luckily. I don't know if it was just weird pedophiles or that I'm more confident now, but in recent years, I hardly get any cat calls.

Though creeps are ALWAYS staring at me. I think I instill awe, fear and sometimes obsession in men- always something off balance, and not at all appealing to me. I think since I'm intimidating (ed. note - she's a 6 foot looker, this one) or whatever, no guy that I find attractive has ever hit on me. I've played the look-at-him-look-away game millions of times in my life, but still the guys never approached me.

One time I was feeling really confident and after that little game I walked by the guy's table and dropped my name and number in front of him. He turned out to be a brainless pretty-boy. (But it was an exhilarating experience!)

I think because of the traumatic scarring of my psyche when I was 10 or 11 years old (the year that adult men started hitting on me - talk about pedophiles. Sure I was 5'8" or so but I know I acted and dressed like a late blooming dorky little girl. No boobs. My best friend & I played Barbies until 8th grade!) that I am so disgusted by any man talking to me in public that I don't seem to remember anything clever or amusing. Though I know I've laughed sometimes, so I've heard amusing things. Also, so much of anyone's opening line in the bar or on the street is regarding my height - so very unoriginal. Like I haven't been asked if I played basketball 5 million billion times before in my life.

Amusing incident: In New Orleans, on Bourbon Street, age 20, walking with my best girlfriend in the afternoon: some drunk, chubby overgrown fratboy type guy started yelling about the things he'd like to do to us. I yelled back at the top of my lungs "Fuck you, asshole!" He then said something like "Well, I didn't say I was going to LIKE it."

The most scared I've been was in Santa Cruz. I went to school there for 2 years right out of high school. That town made me believe in energy spots within the earth that draw people unconsciously to them because EVERYONE in that town is so f-ed up! I got followed on foot at least 3 times - a guy on foot, a guy in a Jeep just keeping pace with my walking. I had to walk around for a while so they wouldn't find out where I lived. One time an extremely buff, tattooed homeboy would not stop talking to me and eventually revealed he'd just gotten out of San Quentin after a long sentence (hello, murder?). He couldn't understand why I asked him to not touch my arm as he was talking to me. I was too afraid to tell that guy off. Another time I was waiting for the bus at like 7am to go up to campus and an old old man in a champagne colored American sedan drove by really slowly. Then he turned around and stopped in front of me. He rolled down his window and drawled really slowly "you're reeeeaaal perty". He'd probably been making women feel uncomfortable (or worse) for 80 years!

The funniest come-ons have been from young teenage boys. I just can't believe it sometimes. It's always black guys; I think it's an accepted art form that they start practicing young and hope to hone. (White teenagers have never hit on me.) One time on 6th street in Berkeley I was walking to the gas station to get cigarettes or something and these 2 boys, couldn't have been older than 13 or 14 (one had braces and their voices were hardly changed!) started hitting on me. Asking if I lived around here, could they get my number, etc. When I laughed and said I was much much too old for them, they were still friendly and continued to walk with me and chat. That was really cute. Some day they'll be smooth operators.

Here's something I've only voiced to myself but I think it's pretty true: I think often we create our own experiences by how we see ourselves and how much or little self-esteem we have. If I had an ounce of self-esteem or self-confidence growing up, I think that would have shown somehow in my face or posture and people might not have been such assholes to me. I think I looked like I would just sit and take it, you know? On top of that, I expected shitty things to happen to me and never expected hot guys to hit on me, etc. I try not to expect bad things to happen anymore and I have tons more confidence, but only because I've worked at it so hard. I guess I believe somewhat in self-fulfilling prophecies. Not entirely though, and I'm certainly not saying I or anyone else deserves crappy experiences. I wish I had a positive mental attitude (ed. & author's note - or PMA as our brilliant mutual friend used to say) at a younger age, then maybe I would have had more fun, or at least funny, experiences.

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My super tall super hot super clever friend now lives with a super rad guy. You see? The PMA really does work!