Lex Nic Masterson (hardcore) wrote in hobopa,
Lex Nic Masterson

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as i sit here licking bbq sauce from the bottle (don't ask), it struck me i haven't related my experiences with old drunken men leaving the bar across from the bus stop i wait at after class. they come shuffling out, that sort of distressed-hat-slovenly-friendly-drunk stereotype one always sees in the moving pictures. they see standing me there with some groceries, and start propositioning me, or making "the moves" on me with old timey "smooth lines", or keep talking to me when i look too tired and disgruntled to really have a pleasant chat.
a special sidenote to this story is that people have been mistaking me for a man since i cut my hair. this has been bewildering me more and more, since i've lost some weight recently, and my boobs are more prominent then my belly is. some even insist on referring to me as male even when they've looked straight in my face and heard my voice.
the fact that these old drunk men can immediately tell i'm female, and have the presence of mind to want to have sex with me, either says something about perceptions under social conscious sober mind and an uninhibited drunken man, or that my body type is that of a prostitute frequented by drunken old men. both make me sad.
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