The other night I came home from a concert, and low and behold some neighbors were outside having a few drinks. My one nice neighbor offered to serve me up some food that was left over, which was very kind of him. I gladly took the offer, as I was starved and had no interest in cooking. I was too exhausted.
I was dressed up a bit. I had on a black skirt–which went past my fingertips if my arms laid at my side, (appropriate length) and a strapless top. For the most part, I wear my version of mom gear daily: a cute shirt and jeans or shorts. I don’t dress like I stepped out of a Talbot’s or LL Bean catalog, nor do I look overly sexy. I don’t want to be one of those moms, but I’m not a frumpy type by any means! I would love to think I’m a casual MILF, but I’m probably just a short, decently cleaned up mom with some regard for fashion and comfort.
So I do understand that when people who don’t normally see me dressed up, of course they might say something nice. A few commented that I looked nice, which was kind and appropriate.
Large neighbor with a strong presence however, went on and on about how I looked “hot.”
It wasn’t one time, it was repeatedly. He commented on how I look like I’ve been working out and how he sees me in workout clothes frequently and that I look good, but no, he’s not stalking me, and it became increasingly uncomfortable.
My nice neighbor was inside and didn’t hear all of this, but no one else said a word to tell him to shut up.
He was yammering on after I ate the delicious free food, and went on to go to my home.
Not once did anyone but myself try to get this man to just stop blabbering.
Everyone thinks, “Oh he’s just drunk, he means no harm.”
Well news flash people: I don’t exist for people to scrutinize my body. I wasn’t naked. I wasn’t dressed like a stripper. Even still–even if I was, I wasn’t asking to be hassled. I wasn’t asking to be the subject of scrutiny. I didn’t ask for this man’s opinion. I don’t care to know. I was just coming home from a concert, in which I wanted to look nice and not like a mom for a minute.
It’s one thing to compliment, and another thing to irritate the living shit out of a woman who really wanted to punch this beast.
Another time, he was rude to my husband while drunk. Of course everyone says, “Oh he’s just drunk.”
Well pardon me, but when did drinking become an excuse for being an asshole? When did it become an excuse for scrutinizing a woman until she is so uncomfortable she has to leave a place?
Maybe I should have just scrutinized him? His gelatinous fat. His staggering gait. The buttons that won’t button on his shirt or burst open.
“I notice you’ve been eating a lot. I notice you’re getting really fat. I’m not stalking you though.”
What would his wife have thought, who seems like a nice person, if she had been there?
Sure, he is nice while sober, but drinking does not give people permission to be jerks.
I am not on this earth for you to devour visually, while verbally churning your sexual desire, even if it wasn’t in a crass manner.
I don’t want to know that you are looking at me. I don’t want to know that you find me sexy or hot. I don’t care. If I cared, I would be your partner, but I’m not that stupid., and hey, I’m sober.