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Ksenia Anske

September 6, 2016

I hate leaving the house

by Ksenia Anske


Illustration by James R. Eads

Illustration by James R. Eads

Illustration by James R. Eads

Illustration by James R. Eads

Every time I do, I have to battle with some man bred on patriarchy and sexism. We took a bus today with Peter to test out the new route to school, plus for me to exercise my knee before the trip to Colorado. On my way back I walked to a bus stop and said "Good morning!" to an old man and smiled. He smiled back and said, "Do you have a boyfriend?" 

I should be on constant alert for this type of behavior, given my life history of being viewed as a sex object, but no, my head was in my book, and so I was taken by surprise (I fucking hate it that I forget). I slipped into my usual mode of battle: question to question, laugh it off with some tasty jabs. So I said, "Why do you ask?" And he said, "I want you to be my girlfriend." And I said, "Sure! Let's get married." That shocked him, and he laughed. "Really?" he said. I said, "I'm dead serious. Only you owe me a huge diamond. Once you get me one, I'm yours." Of course he told me he couldn't afford it. Of course I told him he stands no chance. The bus was coming up, and I had no time to ask him if his equipment still worked and how big his dick was, because if it was small, he'd have to grow it. OR ELSE. Then I was getting on the bus, and he told me he's sad now. I said, "Well, too bad. I hope I broke your heart. Maybe you'll meet another girlfriend on your bus." And then I stewed the whole bus ride home. 

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TAGS: It wrecked my whole morning, this encounter, it was so difficult, to pull myself back together, and create, I wanted to sulk, to be angry, to be sad, writing this out, in this blog post, freed me to create, writing is amazing, I can literally write out any pain, IT'S LIKE MAGIC