the haircut to beat all haircuts
The rumors are true, folks... yesterday I had the joy that IS a mohawk bestowed upon my noggin. No, I'm not kidding. I'll post pictures just as soon as the digital camera recharges and PM is home before the sun goes down (despite being a digital camera it generally sucks indoors). Why? Because I could. I always wanted one and there's no time like the present--especially if presently I don't need to go on job interviews at stuffy museums and galleries just yet. And hey, maybe it will deter me from settling for a job I don't want...
I know it's just hair, but it's given me a new kind of life experience. For instance: two full days without catcalls. Unfortunately, it didn't stop some chode sitting next to me on the train to tell me that I had "beautiful eyes." I guess I can only ugly myself up *so* much... Here's how the exchange when down, by far the most heated and close quartered holla back yet:
Him: You have beautiful eyes.
I turn my head slowly and look him in the face.
Him: Your eyes? (he gestures to his own) They're beautiful.
Me: (slowly and forcefully) I don't care what the fuck you think. I don't need your fucking compliments. So shut the fuck up.
He is absolutely astounded. Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?
Me: Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me at ALL?
Him: We're on the subway together--
Me: That doesn't give you the fucking right to talk to me.
Him: You don't have the right to talk to me like that. Maybe next time I'll say something derogatory. How bout that?
Me: Leave me the fuck alone.
Him: You need to watch the way you talk to me.
Me: Then why don't you quit talking to ME?
Him: No wonder New York is so shitty...
Me: Yeah, because it's got you in it.
Him: Oh, me? You're nothing but a white racist.
Me: I'm not racist. I'm not even white. And you're a sexist.
Him: Not white, oh, what are you then, orange?
Me: Now you're going to tell me what race I am? [I should have said: Oh, we got an ethnographer here!]
At this point it just turns into a stupid repetition of the first few exchanges. I finally just ignore him and go back to my book. He is still reveling from my decline of his compliment and the demand for privacy and peace... Finally, after a few minutes...
Him: (Shaking head) Well I will say this, you got spunk.
Me: Shhh. (keeps reading) [Should have said: If you ever have a daughter I hope "spunk" is enough to keep her from getting raped.]
Him: Did you hear me?
Nothing else is said, but he keeps making these mock astounded gestures and huffy noises. When I get off I make sure to look him right in the eyes one last time (how sexy am I now, fucker?), holding my head high and slightly squinting my eyes in contempt. I don't know what washed over his face, surprise? fear?
Well I'm not afraid of you, fucker. I'm not anything you can wrap your tiny brain around, and I'll talk however I want. That's what you get when you try to assert your opinions on any given woman. And I'm not the only one who talks back, not by a long shot.
In retrospect, it really surprised me that he'd immediately jump to racism (I guess he was black, maybe some Latino too?). Oh, because I responded angerly to his pathetic mack I *must* hate his race. I love that shit--a man alluding to equal rights. If I was a man he wouldn't have said a word to me. If there was true "equality" I would be granted the same silence and respect as a man. I will NEVER take my silence, broken by clumsy implications of my alleged "beauty," as a compliment. Never.
I know it's just hair, but it's given me a new kind of life experience. For instance: two full days without catcalls. Unfortunately, it didn't stop some chode sitting next to me on the train to tell me that I had "beautiful eyes." I guess I can only ugly myself up *so* much... Here's how the exchange when down, by far the most heated and close quartered holla back yet:
Him: You have beautiful eyes.
I turn my head slowly and look him in the face.
Him: Your eyes? (he gestures to his own) They're beautiful.
Me: (slowly and forcefully) I don't care what the fuck you think. I don't need your fucking compliments. So shut the fuck up.
He is absolutely astounded. Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?
Me: Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me at ALL?
Him: We're on the subway together--
Me: That doesn't give you the fucking right to talk to me.
Him: You don't have the right to talk to me like that. Maybe next time I'll say something derogatory. How bout that?
Me: Leave me the fuck alone.
Him: You need to watch the way you talk to me.
Me: Then why don't you quit talking to ME?
Him: No wonder New York is so shitty...
Me: Yeah, because it's got you in it.
Him: Oh, me? You're nothing but a white racist.
Me: I'm not racist. I'm not even white. And you're a sexist.
Him: Not white, oh, what are you then, orange?
Me: Now you're going to tell me what race I am? [I should have said: Oh, we got an ethnographer here!]
At this point it just turns into a stupid repetition of the first few exchanges. I finally just ignore him and go back to my book. He is still reveling from my decline of his compliment and the demand for privacy and peace... Finally, after a few minutes...
Him: (Shaking head) Well I will say this, you got spunk.
Me: Shhh. (keeps reading) [Should have said: If you ever have a daughter I hope "spunk" is enough to keep her from getting raped.]
Him: Did you hear me?
Nothing else is said, but he keeps making these mock astounded gestures and huffy noises. When I get off I make sure to look him right in the eyes one last time (how sexy am I now, fucker?), holding my head high and slightly squinting my eyes in contempt. I don't know what washed over his face, surprise? fear?
Well I'm not afraid of you, fucker. I'm not anything you can wrap your tiny brain around, and I'll talk however I want. That's what you get when you try to assert your opinions on any given woman. And I'm not the only one who talks back, not by a long shot.
In retrospect, it really surprised me that he'd immediately jump to racism (I guess he was black, maybe some Latino too?). Oh, because I responded angerly to his pathetic mack I *must* hate his race. I love that shit--a man alluding to equal rights. If I was a man he wouldn't have said a word to me. If there was true "equality" I would be granted the same silence and respect as a man. I will NEVER take my silence, broken by clumsy implications of my alleged "beauty," as a compliment. Never.