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Maybe it’s the shirt?

August 23, 2011

In preparation for our upcoming move, I went through my closet and in the process discovered the summer tops that I stored away last November.  I put one on this morning and my older kid told me I looked like a princess (this is a complement).  A little later, the younger one put hir head on my chest and told me that the shirt was like a trash bag (this was also a complement).  Then I took the train into work and had three different middle-aged men comment on my appearance – one wondering if my eyes were as beautiful as my “knees”, one sitting so close that his leg “accidentally” kept touching mine (in a half empty car – I moved) and one wondering if school had started up again (it sounds innocent, but the subtext wasn’t, I assure you).  I take transit every day.  People bump into each other, ask each other for the time or if this bus is going to wherever it is they want to go.  They look at each other’s games of solitaire, listen to each other’s cell phone conversations and occasionally solicit you for money.  You take it as it comes.  Transit is fine and it gets you there.  Even riding late at night, I’ve always felt safe.  Today, all three of these individuals creeped me the fuck out.  Objectification isn’t okay, even if you’re wearing a princess shirt made from trash bags.

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