I’m a terrible feminist.
Tonight I was all prepared to write something really scathing about the poor self-image the media inflicts upon young girls, and how a woman’s self-worth should not be determined by the opinions of a man. I was so dedicated to this topic I didn’t even take off my bra before lighting it on fire.
BUT THEN…a customer came in.
And now after our exchange, all my measly weak-minded girly self can give you is this:
The Power of the Male Compliment: A Dramatic Scene
Female (LENA), early 20’s, understated, ravishing beauty sits behind the counter of a coffee shop, listening to Bob Dylan and wasting her youth. She’s feeling rather pensive and existential, whilst debating her attraction to Keira Knightley. NAMELESS MALE walks in, early 20’s, tall, kind of cute wearing a pea coat that mildly resembles Bob Dylan’s on the cover of Blonde on Blonde, a fact she chooses to withhold as no one ever cares when she tells them things like that. She stands up and walks to the center counter to greet him, wondering if he is a Bob Dylan fan and whether or not he has enough body hair to satisfy her.
LENA: (cheerily) Hey!
NAMELESS MALE: Hi…
LENA: What can I get for you?
NAMELESS MALE: Two chocolate donuts.
LENA: Ok. (turns around to reach for donuts, placing them into bag) Anything else?
NAMELESS MALE: Peanut.
LENA: Ok. (turns around, places one into bag) Anything else?
NAMELESS MALE: And coconut.
LENA briefly wonders if NAMELESS MALE continues asking her for donuts so he can ogle her goodies when she turns around to retrieve them, but determines, as she has less ass than a dolphin, he is simply hungry and indecisive.
LENA: Here you go. (hands the bag to him and he smiles at her holding out his money) Thanks.
NAMELESS MALE: You’re welcome…so, how is your night going?
LENA: (hands him his change) Oh you know, it’s not too bad. How is yours?
NAMELESS MALE: That’s good. It’s good…It’s okay.
LENA: (laughs) Good.
NAMELESS MALE: Well, thanks.
LENA: You’re welcome. Have a good night.
NAMELESS MALE: Thank you.
NAMELESS MALE begins to walk out, but as he opens the door, yells out
NAMELESS MALE: You’re very pretty!
LENA: (laughs) What? Oh, thanks!
As NAMELESS MALE gets into his vehicle outside, LENA trips over a plastic coffee stirrer on her way back to her computer, beaming with the giddiness only seen in “principal offices” on pornography sets.
There you have it.
No feminist thoughts. No well-written accusatory tone.
I have nothing worthwhile to say. I have lost all feminist energy, solely because some young man wearing a Bob Dylan-like pea coat told me I was pretty.
It’s like, such a huge problem, I just…
You know what? Why am I even trying to explain? As if any of you uggos will understand…
I need to talk to Samantha Brick.
The girl blogging under the influence of EXTRA Dessert Delights sugarfree gum (you don’t know me!)