The scene: New Year’s Day, waiting with a group of 4 mills students and alums for a seat for brunch at La Note
Strange Man: (awkwardly) What’s a group of good looking girls doing here without any men?
Me: Getting ready to kick your ass if you don’t bug off.
Strange Man: (still awkward) What? I’m a nice guy.
And then he uncertainly walked off, much to my disappointment. The wait was long and my blood sugar was low and I was really hoping to do some ass kicking. Afterwards, I felt it was good not to have brawled, because he clearly had some sort of disability or problem. Hopefully, at least he got a message that his approach is not going to work for him. I doubt it, though. I bet he went home and pondered how being a nice guy clearly wasn’t working for him and thus resolved to be less nice: ie more aggressive, more mean. It might have been better to explain to him exactly why his line wasn’t working out for him. (“Don’t approach strangers in public. Try bars or singles events instead. Don’t act as if women feel lonely having brunch without men around. Also, hello, don’t we look a little queer to you?”)
Of course, what sparked off my brawl-seeking rage was that he put me in a box marked “girl.” What?!!? Man-seeking feminine being?!? I must destroy you now!!
And then I read Fun Home by Allison Bechdel and I’m pondering gender on a more lesbian-identified perspective right now. I’d still want to fight that guy, though.