I find myself increasingly unable to handle "creepy" men.
Several weeks back (a few months, even? I'm so bad with time.) I was at a favorite bar for a show. Three bands on the ticket, two I knew sandwiching one I'd never heard before. A lovely acquaintance is in the band that was to play last. In between sets, I stepped outside to have a smoke. I do that. When I re-entered the bar between the second and third sets, I stepped up to order another beer. There were two men who had clearly been drinking for some time slumped into their bar stools next to me.
The man immediately to my left gave me a sidelong glance, as people do, and then started up a conversation, as people do. I go places alone often; I often get in conversations with strangers. It's one of my favorite things about going places alone, actually. Anyway, this guy started up with he'd never been to this particular establishment before, I told him it was one of my favorites because of its excellence as a live-music venue.
And from there, the conversation degenerated rapidly. He started asking me what "kind" of music.
"All kinds!" I said "Everything from folk-pop to hip hop to the noisiest noise rock you can imagine. Tonight there are three bands, all with heavy folksy vibes."
"Would I like it?" he asked me.
I hesitated. I had no idea. "Well, do you like folksy or bluesy music?" I asked him.
"Would I like the band?" he badgered me.
I tried to explain to him that there was no way I could answer that, given that I had no idea what kind of music he liked, but I was really into all three bands on the ticket and I definitely recommended checking it out.
He then proceeded to call me a "dumb bitch," say I was "stuck up," and mutter loudly about how women were all awful to the buddy sitting on his other side, while glancing at me every five seconds to make sure I knew he was talking about me.
I was so freaked out I left. I never saw the last band, the one my lovely acquaintance is in.
Last night, I was a bit blue: out-of-sorts, restless, unable to bring the snarls of my various thoughts into anything like a smooth-flowing order or even a neatly knotted braid. No, everything was willy-nilly. It's Summerfest in Milwaukee, so after the toddler was passed out cold, I kissed my mother and hopped on my bike and pedalled down. Death Cab for Cutie live? That will totally make me feel better, I told myself.
So there I was, hanging around the very edge of the back of the crowd, half-watching for a friend who was on his way down, half watching the screen, when a hand grabbed my ass. I jumped. A very large, very sweaty, very drunk man was behind me.
I scowled at him, moved to the other side of the table I was standing next to, and tried to forget it.
The next time I looked around, the man was planted on a table across from me, staring.
I was so freaked out, I left. The friend I had been waiting for turned up about ten minutes later and couldn't find me. I only saw about 40 minutes of Death Cab's set.
That's twice this year that I've been driven from something I really wanted to be at by creepy, inappropriate men. Ten years ago, even five years ago, I think I wouldn't have left either circumstance. I'm not sure if this is progress, or regress.
On the one hand, it's possible that ten years ago (or five years ago) I wouldn't have been aware just how creepy and inappropriate and downright awful these kinds of things were. I might have just brushed it off as drunkenness or a bad night. If I'm more aware now, that's progress. On the other hand, this "increased awareness" might be just increased fear. I'm allowing fear of worst-case to rule my own behavior in ways that I would have been utterly defiant of ten or five years ago. If I'm reverting to fear-based reactions, that's regress.
I've been thinking about this since I left the festival grounds last night. And I come, inexorably, to the conclusion that I'm reacting to increased fear. Five or ten years ago, I was at least somewhat secure in the belief that even *if* the worst case scenario happened, things would be done about it. Perpetrators would be brought to justice, courtroom drama would ensue, I would cry prettily. (I can't actually cry prettily, for the record: my face turns the color of boiled tomatoes and my eyes swell shut and my nose runs.)
I have spent too much time reading true horror stories, and seeing the non-cosequences of violence against women and rape to be secure in that belief anymore. Today, I believe that if the worst case scenario happened in any given circumstance, I would be blamed for it. It would be my fault for being out alone/having some drinks/wearing a dress/smiling at people/take your pick.
This is the reality of rape culture: I don't want to go out alone anymore. I would rather remain cooped in my house if I don't have the protection of another person with me. I don't want, or have the strength of mind, to fight through all the fear that is building up around being out, in public, alone. And why is it incumbent on me to have to fight through all that just to enjoy the world? Because I'm a woman? Bullshit.
Men, quit acting like this. I don't care how drunk you are. I don't care how long it's been since you got laid, or how badly your last relationship ended. Just knock it the hell off. There's no excuse for it.
I don't want to go out alone. If you know me even a little, you must understand how momentous a statement that is. I don't want to go out alone anymore.
I keep telling Vanessa to not concern herself with boys until she is out of middle school because by then, they will have outgrown their primate-like behavior. Apparently, I'm being too optimistic.
ReplyDeleteSeems like both of the guys you wrote about were drinking, but that's no excuse... I've never bought into the notion of "it's the booze talkin'" at all. Alcohol merely loosens the tongue, lifts the lid off of the id, and clears a path to say what's already on one's mind. If boys are not corrected when they address girls in derogatory terms (bitch, ho, slut, etc.), if their poor choice of words are reinforced by the availability of Valentine Day teddy bears holding hearts that read "Bitch U Fine", if a young mother buys her baby boy a pacifier that reads "PIMP" thinking it's cute... I mean, no wonder so many of these boys grow up to be assholes.I've also noticed how some girls Vanessa's age are just fine with being called a bitch, ho, slut, in fact, some consider it a term of endearment.
I'm sad to say that I don't think the men (loosely using the word here) who are acting this way are going to stop; they've already established their patterns of behavior and enough of the culture reinforces and even endorses those patterns. As parents, we can teach our boys the importance of words, and to respect and defend girls. We can teach our girls to defend themselves, beginning with the recognizing the importance of words and how they are used as labeling and control devices, and to demand respect.
Ok, I'm not trying to belittle your fear when confronted by obviously sexist men, but calling it part of a "rape culture" is a bit extreme, don't you think?
ReplyDeleteI was recently kicked out of a women's rights advocacy page on facebook for arguing with the page owner. She made a claim that Hitler was a religious fanatic and I argued that he really wasn't, that much. This was sooo offensive to her (my being male and trying to tell her something about history, which I study in my spare time) that I had to be BANISHED from an issue that I happen to care deeply about... Equal rights.
I'm in no way attempting to justify what the man said to you or about you... and I totally believe you. I've seen it before too. But if you allow yourself to become "frightened" by these types of guys, they win. And chalking it up to a "rape culture" comes dangerously close to what I'd call creating an unfair "boogeyman" out of any guy who is rude or disagrees with a woman... Because some women are just as bad... You know they are. What about all the guys who were NOT behaving like drunk sleezeballs at the bar? Surely if it's your favorite place, there must be some guys there that you like being around...
Wow. Stop. Really, just stop. This post has NOTHING to do with how you were treated on some facebook page, and comparing your experience as a man in a space for women to a woman's multiple experiences in public is some serious false equivocation and decontextualization. And telling her to stick it out because not all guys will attempt to demean, molest or rape her? Do you think she doesn't know that, and do you really think that it's comforting, when confronted with such behavior, to think of all of the men who aren't doing those things to her?
Delete"But she's generalizing to all men..." No she's not, and only an intentionally obtuse reading would allow for that impression.
"But women act as bad..." Much lower numbers, and apart from femdom fantasies, there's no societal acceptance of sexually aggressive women and victim blaming. There is silencing of male rape victims, but that's not at issue, and for you to take this post and try to make it about the ways that men are oppressed by women is silencing.
I'm really not surprised you got kicked out of a space for women, given how you inserted yourself into this one.
wow with the comments!!??? totally proves the point of "rape culture" and ignorance.
ReplyDeleteSad to hear you couldn't enjoyed your bad, that really sucks. Nobody should try to dominate anyone or invade someone's private time/space.
Going out by yourself is cool sometimes, or most. But it's true, you find a lot of characters.
Violence against women is a true phenomena so within our culture, some people can't even recognize it, thinking, well, You are a women!... ridiculous.
I really admire where you stand, this is a very important issue
that we need to keep talking about it.
Without saying more, I just wanted to show my support. Stand up for yourself, I admire that and respect it.
Gil