A guy who knows what I had been through thought it would be nice to make a rape joke to me and that as a victim I could brush it off. After all, as a woman, aren’t I suppose to smile and keep my mouth shut?
Well I’ve never been one for the self inflicted pain of biting my tongue or a fan of pandering to anyone’s ego.
So, I turned his joke back on him, and jokingly myself, offered to stick his beer bottle where I doubt most people would want it. He was appalled and offended. He even began to threaten violence over something I said with the lightest of tones. It was then I asked him how he thought I felt. He honestly looked confused. He tried to argue that “it’s different” and even tried to “school” me on how I should feel. My only response was “Keep it up, I have lotion in my purse.” Again he couldn’t win. More anger, more fear, and even more of trying to justify his double standard. I pointed out that when the tables are turned it’s not so laughable.
I told him to think about how my jokes felt like physical threats. To think about how he would feel to have his own body invaded by someone or something that he didn’t want.
Was I crass? Yes. Are all rape jokes wrong? Yes. Did I drive the point home? Yes.
Fortunately or sadly he doesn’t have that same experience 10 times a day. Perhaps if he knew the world from the side of too many women out there he would make greater efforts to improve his own ideal of what’s right or how things should be.
Until you’ve had a someone go from flirting with you one second and threatening to kill you the next, or a guy walk up to you in a bar with his penis out, having never met you and obviously displaying the only thing he thinks is interesting about himself, I am sad to say you don’t know what it’s like.
Much like a man child on Facebook that after several “Hello” messages that I didn’t have time to respond to, decided to put his anything but stellar vocabulary to the test and send me a message that read, “Sit on my face.” He wanted attention and now he has it. He apologized and said “Don’t be mad.” To which I replied that I am completely lucid and as far from “mad” as one could be. I then told him that I wasn’t even angry and worse I wasn’t disappointed either.
He, and I fear this is where many guys go wrong, honestly thought he was being sexy. I made it clear that was the least sexy thing he could have typed, but judging by his typing that was probably the best he could do. After I read him the standard riot act that any woman over 25 has committed to memory. He tries to explain that he only wanted my attention and a response. I asked him if he would make the same request of his boss, should he need to get their attention? He said he wouldn’t. I asked if that’s the voicemail he leaves for his mother, sister, or daughter when they neglect his tragic pleas. Apparently it isn’t. So then I asked what made him think I would at all, feel honored to receive the perverse attention he had decided to bestow upon me? He didn’t know so I left him with this, “If you wouldn’t address any woman in your family in the manner you’re considering and if you know you would get fired from your job if you tried it with your boss, then perhaps you are better off not communicating at all.”
Not that some of these jerks aren’t fun to play with. When I got a message saying “I want to put my dick in you’re but.” I knew that was going to be hours of fun turning that poorly written statement into the “Who’s On First?” of awful attempts at sexting. (Yes I can type “But what?” for hours.)
I’m not saying guys aren’t allowed to flirt. I’m not suggesting we stop talking dirty to each other. I just think both sides should consent before digging through your mental smut files.
Trust me it’s more fun that way.