WHY HAY THAR BEWBIES
Okay, so I was on my way home from class today, headphones on- and I mean headPHONES, not little tiny earbuds you can't see, big honking black headphones that make me look like a DJ- and at the railroad overpass, some lady comes up to me jabbering in a foreign language. I assume Russian, because she looked Eastern European and the language didn't sound very familiar. Older woman, fake red hair, generally unremarkable features. I figure she's looking for the Social Security office on the next block, or she's trying to get me to believe in God and/or a psychic, whatever. Off come the headphones and I ask her to repeat herself.
Next thing I know, she's smiling at me and talking and her hand is on my right breast. OMGWTF HELL NO. I ran like hell, brandishing my Village Voice and screaming "NO TOUCHING!"
So apparently I now not only have to worry about the Latino guys at the supermarket who ogle me when I pass, and the Indian guy at my local altar of St. Deborah the Diminutive Patron of Snack Foods, and the general worry about pervy old men, but also pervy old women. Look, just because I was previously curled up with the sex columns of the Village Voice does not mean I am a freak who is just longing for random old women to grope me, on so many levels.
Next thing I know, she's smiling at me and talking and her hand is on my right breast. OMGWTF HELL NO. I ran like hell, brandishing my Village Voice and screaming "NO TOUCHING!"
So apparently I now not only have to worry about the Latino guys at the supermarket who ogle me when I pass, and the Indian guy at my local altar of St. Deborah the Diminutive Patron of Snack Foods, and the general worry about pervy old men, but also pervy old women. Look, just because I was previously curled up with the sex columns of the Village Voice does not mean I am a freak who is just longing for random old women to grope me, on so many levels.