Last Friday night reminded me of why I avoid going out: men. And no, not all men—just a certain type of men. The one who prowls clubs looking for a partner to do the dirty with. The one who thinks he’s entitled to your attention. The one who’s shocked to find out he’s not.
But that’s what it’s like when you go out in a small town.
It was karaoke night—and there were only around 20 patrons in the entire club. It was the first time I’d gone out in months—with my mum and best friend, no less. But of course, when there’s a woman, there will be a man thinking he’s entitled to her attention.
A random guy came up and put his hand on my back.
“Come on, come up and dance. Support my buddy,” he said.
Firstly, no. Take your hands off me. You have no right to touch me—even if it is just my back. The location isn’t important: the lack of consent is.
“No thanks!” I replied. Because dancing in front of some random dude who thinks that’s a sign i’ll go home with him is probably the last thing I want to do.
“No?” he was shocked I’d refused—and with no excuse either!
“No,” I responded, smiling and waving my wine glass.
With that, he left, shaking his head. What a shock that must have been! A simple “no”, rather than an excuse. I didn’t tell him I wasn’t drunk enough to go dance, I didn’t tell him I had a boyfriend, I didn’t tell him I wasn’t at all interested: I just told him no—and that’s how it should be.
Ladies and gentlemen: you don’t owe anyone anything. It’s not bitchy to refuse. It’s not rude to refuse. It’s your right. Just because a member of the opposite sex happens to smile at you doesn’t mean you have to do anything. You don’t owe him anything. Women do not exist to pump up Male egos.
I’ll repeat that: women do not exist to pump up male egos.
And really, if your ego can be shattered by a person saying no, you probably weren’t all that good to begin with.
This is something that is really starting to annoy me. Men: please pay attention—don’t be rude. Don’t manspread on public transport.
What is manspreading, you may ask? Well, it’s when a male spreads his legs on public transport and decides his genitals require an extra seat. Now, this wouldn’t be a problem if the transport in question was empty—it’s when it’s packed and your inconsideration forces someone to stand that it really grinds my gears.
I get it. You guys need to spread your legs a little. Duh. You have genitals. I assume closing them tight would be painful. Even so, there’s a BIG difference in comfort and being a complete jerk.
Today for instance, I was waiting for my 8am bus. As usual, it was pretty damn packed. Multiple people were standing. And what do I see? A dude with his legs spread across two seats. Unless your diddly is in a cast, there is no excuse for this. It’s on par to those people who think their bags require a seat when others are standing. If the bus or train is empty, sure: spread away. But otherwise, let me put it bluntly for you: YOUR JUNK IS NOT THAT BIG THAT YOU REQUIRE TWO SEATS TO SPREAD YOUR LEGS!
I’ve heard a fair few defences to this. That it’s not comfortable. That it’s not manly for guys to sit with their legs closed. That “we’re not meant to sit that way”. You don’t think women want to chill out and take up two seats? Of course we do. But we don’t, because we’re not inconsiderate assholes. Furthermore, it’s super duper awkward trying to sit next to someone man spreading. I like my personal space. Stay in your own damn lane!
Seriously guys, just close your damn legs. Not all the way, because we wouldn’t want you to squash your little boys. But enough that someone can sit next to you. Who knows? She might be a pretty girl and become your future wife. The world is your oyster—but only if you partially close your legs.