Gravitas
I am watching a parade or a dance troupe in a mall and I laid down on two seats. I was comfortable. I was with friends. My legs stuck out. It was a faux pas, yes, but I wanted this. To be next to these people, I knew. I lay there as the festivities continued. The sounds went on, then a person, who I thought was a woman lay alongside me, thick-armed, soft, and I embraced her holding me. After all, a woman I had known who was homeless had been curling up inside me earlier and was licking my neck. It was like I was accepting of her, not finding her smell offensive, or her lack of teeth, horrifying. I was trying to embrace the problem of man. I inevitably wanted out. I am a germaphobe.
But, back to this person. While I was laying there, a woman dressed up and a party to the festivities, a beauty, came over and while smiling, she questioned the person wrapped around me, and I could tell by her words that she was addressing a man: “Johnny (or something this person said) what are you doing?” She tried to pull his arms. I guess she thought we were a couple, since I wasn’t resisting. She eventually moved on.
At that point, I was very uncomfortable. Why would any man think that it was OK to manhandle someone he had never met, unless he was gay, or he thought I was crossing a line, as I lay across two chairs and had my feet stick out?
I held steady, and remained quiet. I didn’t want to test him. I had to figure out a way so that he didn’t break my neck. Do I grab his balls? Do I put my arms between my neck and his arms? Do I yell for help? I realized at this point, the passive-aggressiveness of men. I understood what women must feel. Men are the danger. They have no right to pretend to be Gods.
