Do you want to go have sex in the bathroom?
Said the guy not two minutes after he asked to dance with me.
I had nothing else to say to him on the matter. It wasn’t going to happen. Bathroom sex (we’re talking about public bathroom sex, mind you) isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list. Well, actually, it’s not on my bucket list at all. Quite frankly, it sounds a bit raunchy to me. Plus, I’m not really one for hook ups. But that’s just me.
“Uh…okay, well it’s okay. We can still dance together.”
Until it wasn’t…approximately one minute later.
“Never mind, I don’t want to dance with you anymore.”
— — — —
We live in a society where forward questions like this directed at perfect strangers have become…the norm? Damn, I hope not!
I mean, is it just me, or is there something wrong with even the idea of that?
I’m sure you’d never be so brash sober. Or would you? Doesn’t that bother you?
So, I’m a reasonably attractive young woman who was dancing at a bar. Maybe I looked sexy? I don’t know. I was in a hurry when I left the house and put on the first decent outfit I could find in my closet.
The first thing I felt at the end of our conversation was, well, violated.
So, you’re probably in college; maybe you’re eighteen or nineteen, got in with a fake I.D. You probably have these raging hormones and thought, what better place than a college bar to let off some steam, to [try to] get some? You have a penis and I have a vagina. What have you.
But. Oh, hey…I’m actually more than my vagina (go figure!). I’m a person and well, personally, I’d preferred if you would have gotten to know me a bit before whipping out the big question. The “do you wanna go have sex in the bathroom?” question. Would a half an hour of dancing killed ya? Perhaps, if you really wanted to make an impression before trying to get in my pants, you could have offered to buy me a drink…maybe ask me a bit about myself?
For the record, I still would have said no. Personally, a half hour isn’t enough time either…hook ups really aren’t my thing, remember? But, I guess, it’s the thought that counts…or would have, if you would have taken that extra half hour between the initial question and the big question…
Think about it.
— — — —
Really, though, the fact that you didn’t even bother to stick around after I gave you my answer to the big question says more than the question itself. I was just a vagina to you. A vagina with closed legs.
Clearly, I didn’t miss out on much.
I initially wasn’t going to write a post up about this occurrence; even though it was a bit bothersome (and makes for an interesting, albeit kind of uncomfortable story), I didn’t want to waste my time writing about a stupid guy whom I’ll never see again.
After having lunch with a good friend recently, I changed my mind. I told her this story and we had a long conversation about it and what it says about society in general. I realized this isn’t just about a stupid guy. It goes way beyond that. It has social implications that say so much about our cultural perceptions of gender and how we, as a society, use those perceptions and take advantage of them–i.e. as a young female dancing in a crowded bar, one can automatically assume that I’m looking for attention and, more importantly, sex…or, as a young female dancing in a crowded bar, one can automatically assume that I’m intoxicated enough to be taken advantage of. Of course, this could happen to a male in a similar situation, too. It goes both ways. This is just my experience and, generally speaking, females are more likely to encounter situations like this as the quote-on-quote “weaker sex.”** Regardless, this very much bothers me–hence, why I ultimately decided to write this post. Going along with the nature of my blog, I chose to take a creative approach in discussing it; I generally find that personal stories are more effective at relaying a point rather than simply stating facts or spewing opinions left and right, so this is the result.
**I don’t have one specific source to point this phrase to because I’ve come across it so often in literature, etc. That said, although a bit of an outdated expression in the present, this ideal of women as the weaker sex is still firmly rooted in much of our societal perceptions of gender.