Lying in my bed, listening to the rain, and crying over the offensive things that were said to me at work last night, I decided to write about why such comments are so offensive.
Last night, at my second job, a middle-aged male came around the corner from having his meal with his WIFE, saw me smiling behind the cash stand, and asked, rather loudly, if I would go home with him because he liked redheads. I awkwardly laughed and told him it wasn't natural, but instead of him letting it go, of being grateful that some woman actually married him, that I wasn't roundhouse kicking his knees out of placement, he continues to ask me what time I got off. Repeatedly. Really? REALLY?
And as I think on it, I find it bothers me so much because it's ridiculously asinine to make comments like that. What point could that have possibly served? All I can think about is sitting in Dr. G.'s Chaucer class and discussing how physical attraction is what initially attracts us to a person. Why? Because we let it. I don't know if I will ever understand it, because what good is the outward appearance? Really, what good is it? It fads with age or is taken away with an accident. What is so hard to understand about that? We are not "bodies with souls" as Jim Butcher's Queen Mab so distinctly puts it, but rather "souls with bodies". The shell is a temporary residence. We should be attracted to each others souls. They're the stuff of eternity.
So, dear readers, I've decided I have three choices: 1. Marry a blind man. 2. Become a nun. 3. Travel and paint with a completely platonic male friend to keep the creepers at bay. I like number three best--LB, let's go!
