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stories from the city
Women were damned when they were given hips, were made such that we could not carry our arms simply straight at our sides, were handed shelves of bone and flesh to carry children.
Today I apologized to a man for being in his way in a store. Very rudely, he said, "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."
I was unnerved, said I hadn't meant any harm and left.
He comes out of the store after me, explaining that I'm not allowed to take offense because he has a loud voice. He's _yelling_.
"Don't worry about it," I mumble, not wanting to deal with it. My hand was on my hip, because that's where my hand goes, and because my hips and elbows and just about everything hurts right now, and that's where it was most comfortable for my hand to be.
"See, you have an attitude problem," he yells, starts immitating my posture, puts his hand on his hip, goes on and on how I'm prissy.
I tell him to fuck off. He procedes to follow me for a block, screaming that there is medication for cunts like me. I suspect he meant poison.
*
On the subway, a woman bursts into a delightful laugh as I get in the car. She loves my t-shirt (yes, it's Republicans for Voldemort day), and I'm charmed by her. Big heavy woman, of the, I know people give her shit variety. But she was so happy. And I was about to cry (for those of you that can't see the friends-only stuff there are some other things going on).
*
I get off the subway, to be followed my woman telling me I'm a lazy Jew without a job.
This is my city and this isn't going to be a good day.
Today I apologized to a man for being in his way in a store. Very rudely, he said, "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."
I was unnerved, said I hadn't meant any harm and left.
He comes out of the store after me, explaining that I'm not allowed to take offense because he has a loud voice. He's _yelling_.
"Don't worry about it," I mumble, not wanting to deal with it. My hand was on my hip, because that's where my hand goes, and because my hips and elbows and just about everything hurts right now, and that's where it was most comfortable for my hand to be.
"See, you have an attitude problem," he yells, starts immitating my posture, puts his hand on his hip, goes on and on how I'm prissy.
I tell him to fuck off. He procedes to follow me for a block, screaming that there is medication for cunts like me. I suspect he meant poison.
*
On the subway, a woman bursts into a delightful laugh as I get in the car. She loves my t-shirt (yes, it's Republicans for Voldemort day), and I'm charmed by her. Big heavy woman, of the, I know people give her shit variety. But she was so happy. And I was about to cry (for those of you that can't see the friends-only stuff there are some other things going on).
*
I get off the subway, to be followed my woman telling me I'm a lazy Jew without a job.
This is my city and this isn't going to be a good day.
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I occasionally get similar reactions, because I hold my head up (all that dance training), carry my arms (rather than letting them just hang), and look directly at people, instead of tilting my head down, and looking shyly up. These days, though, I get fewer of them -- the shaved head, and the additional weight, seem to make a little more fearsome. I would bet that some of it is that you're still quite slender, and almost fragile-looking -- how dare you stand and look at people as if you're actually allowed to occupy space?
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