Every night I leave the office, there is a bunch of young volunteers trying to sign pedestrians up for the Save the Child Fund or something like that. Usually they approach you, and if you don’t seem interested or refuse to engage into a conversation, they stop harassing you. Last night I was rushing home to make it to DS’s allergist appointment when I witnessed one of those young people trying to talk to a very attractive pedestrian in a mini-skirt and a tank top. The guy simply refused to take no for an answer and kept on pursuing the woman for about half a block. It was quite obvious that the woman was singled out for her looks and not because of the volunteer’s burning desire (well, that also maybe true) to save the kids. I gleefully thought, “That serves you right, wearing a mini and looking all hot and slutty. That would never, ever happen to me, any more.” No man will ever chase me to engage into a conversation, ask for my phone number or beg to save a child in Africa. No man will ever chase me for any reason. Period. And that’s a good thing, right?
Well, that might not be entirely true. I know one man who would chase me to wash his dirty socks and another one, no quite man yet, to make him chocolate milk, but that’s about it. Eat this, you mini skirt clad model! I bet you don't get to wash anyone’s dirty socks! And that’s a bad thing, right?
Well, my suspicions were confirmed that same night when I was playing with the kids. I didn’t want to sit on the floor, so I took one of their little chairs and was about to sit on it when DD said indignantly, “Mommy, you have a bit butt!” To my, “What?” she replied, “I have a small butt, so I can sit on a kiddie chair, and you have a big butt, so you can’t.” I guess I found a reason why little girls would chase me: to prevent destruction of their little chairs. And that’s a funny thing, right?
Well,someone didn’t get her chocolate milk that night. And that’s not being petty or vindictive, right?