I had an interesting encounter the other day. I was wearing shorts – as you do on a warm day – and walking down the main street to the university, in the middle of the day.
A couple of men stopped me and one of them said, “How much do you charge, love?”
Female students here get this kind of crap a lot, so I decided to mess with him. “For a prat like you, a million pounds, but if you’ve got a sister, I’ll do her free.”
This incensed him and he started yelling, “You can’t say that about my sister!”
“Well,” I said as calmly as I could, “I am someone’s sister too.”
“Oh. Of course, yeah… I do like your shorts though. Sorry I was a dickhead before, like.”
“Thanks. Just remember women are people too and we don’t like being called sluts.”
“Aye, makes sense… Sorry, love. You have a nice day.”
“You too, mate, nice to meet you.”
I was quite heartened by how he seemed to change his mind and be really quite friendly after I’d challenged him, but I shouldn’t have to answer to strangers for the crime of wearing shorts. Then again, it’s MFIF.
Someone’s Sister, UK