Here is a blog post from Gawker.com: THIS IS THE LINK. CLICK HERE.
Okay, if you don't want to read it, I'll summarize. The author was sitting at a table at a bar while her boyfriend was getting a drink. A stranger came up to start chatting her up. He asked a million boring questions and didn't catch on to her short I-Don't-Want-To-Talk-To-You-Right-Now social cues. She then goes on to say that when you talk to strangers, any time, you get two questions, and if they don't continue the conversation, stop. She brought up the example of sitting next to someone on an airplane. Which I especially agree with. I hate talking to people on planes. I bring books, headphones, and pretend to sleep to avoid it. Books are the weakest way to deter chatters.
Anyways. I got to thinking about when I've been chatted up by guys who I was not interested in, or got rude man comments on my body.
The most obvious time was at the frat/sorority dance club in Mount Pleasant. Not the Wayside. It was downtown and this was the only time I went there. It was techno night and Josh and I love to dance to techno. We were dancing up a storm (mostly alone...apparently techno dancing isn't as popular as we would wish), and then I was tired and Josh had to go to the bathroom. While he was gone, these two guys, who had been sitting and creepy watching us (me). The asked me where Josh went, and I said to the bathroom. And he says: "Well, if you were with me, I'd never go to the bathroom and leave you alone." Ummmm....nope. Not a good pick up line. I always want people to go to the bathroom when they have to.
When I was at Field Camp, were are at the Million Dollar Cowboy bar in Jackson Hole, Whyoming, and I was walking up to the bar and an older creepy man says "Those aren't real." and looks pointedly at my boobs. I wish I had looked at him and said Fuck You. But I didn't. I said "Yes they are" and he said "No they aren't" and then I just turned away and ordered my drink. Later someone told me he probably wanted me to prove it. GROSS. And, they are obviously real. Fake ones are far perkier and less bouncy. It's the sagginess that creates the bounce. My shirt was low enough for him to figure it out. Gross. I hate thinking about that. And...I should be allowed to wear that shirt like that with out even thinking about this. I mean, men can go around with out shirts on all the time. Not just be allowed to wear tiny shirts to bars only.
And...the type of shirt you wear truly doesn't matter. Man pigs will be man pigs.
The winter before I was in DC for a school trip and I was getting off the subway. I was wearing a tshirt with unbuttoned flannel shirt over it. It's about as conservative and covered up as I can get short of wearing my winter coat. As I was exiting the train door smooshed in with all the other people getting off and getting on at the same time, this guy, who was getting on, looks at my chest and goes "Damn! Look at those titties!"
I've been whistled at while wearing my winter coat. Which I stuff the pockets with mittens and stuff I find on the ground, and it makes me look like I have a second set of boobs below the first set.
Once I was in meijer, and I was looking at some lacy underwear/tank set in the women's dept. and a creeper was in there with his cart. Always avoid the lone men in the women's underwear department. Always. I was dirty, with my winter hat on badly, my ugly winter coat on and wearing pajama pants tucked into my off brand ugg boots. I was definitely in my least attractive outfit ever. The creeper saw me picking up the pink lacy outfit and says "That would look good on you." Um, no. I ran away and left the area.
It doesn't matter what you wear, what size you are, curvy or not, so long as you have a vagina, (some) men think it's okay to say sexual things to you or at you. They view women as objects, not people.
I wonder in what ways men are viewed as objects and not people? Is it okay because it isn't as common an occurrence? Is it more common in the gay communities? How do they deal with it? What is it like in the lesbian communities? How do they deal with it? Where is the line between appreciating someone's attractiveness and being a creeper man or woman pig?