For most women, when they don’t wear the most flattering clothes for their shape, they just look a little less attractive. For me, when I don’t do that, people read me as a man..
That’s what I was thinking after the big black gent turned to hold the door, looked at me and said “Oh, Man!” I decided it must have been the “short” skirt – black and just above the knee, worn with thick black tights and black wedge heel penny loafers — rather than the flowy goddess length ones.
Now, I kept smiling, of course. The women may have been whispering and looking, but I smiled back, confident and arrogant; holding my own pride and worth in the face of their question.
Still, that question was out there, or at least in here, in my mind.
I needed to use the loo, and I looked for the family loo (a single holer), in Target but this one, in our most rural county, didn’t have one available, and the questions made me avoid the main lady’s room. I thought of going to Staples, a quiet store, but I figured the clothing store I planned to stop at would have one, because they do at other branches in the area.
They didn’t have a publically labelled one, and I didn’t want to ask. I thought I could make it, but then I knew I couldn’t. I went to the car, started it up, and realized going someplace else wasn’t going to work.
I parked, grabbed for any cup — my big refill mug was, sadly, the only thing at hand — rolled onto my side and filled the mug.
I was done, but as I rolled back, there was one more big spurt, soaking my tights, my underwear, and even drenching the center console of the car.
Here I was, dripping and smelly in the car, and needless to say I wasn’t in a good place. I know that I am the first gal who has wet herself, but what cause my trouble was being caught between the abjection of being outside the bounds and the arrogance of that allows one to claim what others often don’t want to give.
The ride back to this house was hard and long. My feelings were boiling, and all that meant was I had to clamp down even more to stay in the intellectual and not the emotional. There was no one to take care of me other than me, and that meant a kind of bifurcation that isn’t easy, isn’t comfortable.
Ricky Bobby drove with the cheetah in the car, learning not to bow to fear, which let him finally be humble.
I know that it’s vital that I not show fear in the world, so others are not fearful of me. That takes a kind of confident arrogance where you have to believe that you know better than the doubters, that you have worth, value and entitlement to social facilities and courtesy
But I also know that it’s imporant to show some kind of abjection, where you don’t just be out there in everyone’s face, where you try to find graceful and low-impact solutions.
How, I ask you, can we hold arrogance and abjection at the same time?
And how often do we have to pee all over ourselves before we just give up?
Callan 