I am not Mike Brown. I am white. I am middle class. I am female. I am small. I am not considered a threat. When police see me they see someone who looks like them. They see their mothers, their daughters, their sisters, themselves. I am not at risk of being shot by police for existing while black. I am not at risk of being shot while unarmed. I am not at risk of being shot while armed with nothing more than a BB gun. I am not at risk of being shot for reaching for my wallet. I am privileged.
But I am outraged. And if you aren’t outraged, then you aren’t paying attention. This is America in 2014. This is our reality. It’s so easy to get jaded and to ignore these atrocities, to act like this doesn’t affect us. It’s so easy to get apathetic. In the past it was the youth who protested. Where is the rage of the youth? Where is our rage?
Like I said, I am not Mike Brown. But I am outraged.
Thank you to everyone that was so nice and supportive about my less than stellar evening. <3 I love you all.
I’m feeling much better now, and I really, really appreciate everything y’all have said.
how not to treat a person: a guide by the “nice guy” that took me out after work
After work I agreed to go out to dinner with a coworker. We’ll call him R.
Now, to be honest, I’ve never experienced this first hand before. Never in my life have I felt so completely humiliated, objectified, and fetishized as I did tonight.
R is into “BBW” girls. He told me a lot about it. How he’d never dated a girl under 300 pounds. How he liked the leggings I was wearing. How my outfit was really cute. How I had such a cute smile. How I had such a perfect ass. How I was just his type.
I kept trying to interrupt him. He was really talking so much I couldn’t get a thing in edgewise; until (hallelujah) he asked me the question: “So, you got a boyfriend?”
"I’ve got a girlfriend."
"…Oh. So you’re a lesbian."
I dove for the chance to change the subject, and started to explain Pansexuality. Let me insert this now, R is the kind of guy that “knows a little about everything,” AKA: doesn’t know shit about anything, and tries to pass things off as untrue because he doesn’t know anything about them.
He didn’t seem to care much about Pansexuality. He doesn’t understand it, so therefore it doesn’t exist. He kept reiterating that fact that I was a lesbian.
He asked if I’d ever slept with a guy before.
I said I’d never even seen a dick in person.
He said that turned him off. (Wow, like I care.) His exact words were “Wow, that made me go down a little.” He said it was weird. That I was weird, because I’ve never seen a fucking penis. He offered (“jokingly”) to show me his.
He kept talking about how I was the perfect match for him. How I loved DBZ, and he loved DBZ. That I was a BBW, and so therefore sexually appealing. He asked to touch my arms, because he likes fat arms. Really. More than once.
Also, a good portion of dinner I’m subjected to being told about biology. How homosexuality isn’t what we’re designed to be, to do. All kinds of shit. R’s religious as fuck, too. That was interjected quite a bit. He wasn’t saying I was going to hell or anything, but I had this vibe all the time we were together that he was actively trying to get me to doubt my relationship with Mina.
Legitimately. There was this one point where we were REALLY discussing deep (meaning he was telling me a lot, and I was occasionally nodding, because I couldn’t get a fucking word in no matter how hard I tried) and he asked me “So, how do you know your girlfriend really loves you?” Yeah. He said that.
I told him I just knew. I don’t doubt her. I love her.
"Yeah, but how do you know?”
"I just do."
"That’s not a real answer."
All evening. This is all that went on.
Eventually, we were out so late that the buses weren’t running anymore, and he needed to get home. Problem is? He lives on the East Side. I can’t drive to the East Side. I asked if he could have his roommate pick him up. He said yes, but continued to make me feel guilty the entire time I was driving him back to work.
Then he gets ahold of his roommate. “Hey, J. Yeah, I’m out with this really hot BBW chick. She’s dating a girl, and hasn’t even seen a penis before. Funny, right? So, she can’t take me home because she has this whole phobia thing about the Eas—”
"R, hand me the phone."
He hands it to me.
"Hi, this is Shika. Last time I was on the East Side I had a fucking nervous breakdown, and I never want that to happen again. Especially when there’s this many people on the road, and passenger in my car."
He took the phone back from me.
"…So, uh… can you pick me up from work? Thanks. Bye."
I had to go in and buy something to break a $20 so I could give his roommate gas money. I felt it was fair. Poor guy has to live with this dick. R almost didn’t take it, but I insisted. I didn’t want there to be any feeling of me owing him ANYTHING. Especially after he’d already paid for dinner.
When I got home and started talking to Mina about it I just started crying. I’d been holding back frustration all evening, and it all just spilled out.
I still feel slimy, I feel like he didn’t really see me as a person, I feel terrified for any girl that might become involved with him. He was so condescending, and rude, and unfunny, and I was just SO MAD. But I had to keep things professional. I had to keep things on a good level for work. I couldn’t risk things being awkward in the workplace.
I just wish this evening never happened.