You Are Ugly
I am not a morning person. To be fair (to me), if I get to stay in bed for as long as I’d like to in the morning, I am a morning person, but generally that does not happen. Generally I have to wake up at 6 a.m. and make lunch for Bea. Making lunches at 6 a.m. is gross. I don’t want to see hummus and salami at 6 a.m. Bea always rejects breakfast, so I have to pack heavy lunches. That’s a lot of salami.
This past Friday, I took on my morning errands like I’d swallowed all the Adderall. I made lunch, took her to school, cleaned the house, got gas and groceries, and went to FedEx before 8 a.m. As I was driving down a quiet street in the Valley, my water bottle toppled out of the cupholder and onto my lap. My phone was wet. I was in shock. It was almost the whole water bottle full, you know, since it was so early in the morning.
I pulled over to the parking lane on the street, at the corner, and turned on my hazard lights. I began to look for napkins, a t-shirt, whatever, and finally found a few used face masks to clean up the water. Then, I saw him. An older weathered faced man walking two small dogs. He was between sixty-five and seventy years old, he was about to touch my car. Then he did exactly what I was hoping he would not do. He tapped the front of my car, and yelled “HEY!”
The audacity of men towards women in cars (also, yes, everywhere else) has been on my mind a lot lately. There are constant micro-aggressions. My favorite is when you get to a four-way stop sign at the same time as a man does and he looks exasperated at you, wildly waving at you to go first when he’s got the right of way. He’s annoyed by trying to play polite. That’s audacious. I’m not saying women don’t do this as well. I’m just saying, from my experience, it’s always been men.
So, this guy, he taps on my car while I’m pulled to the side of the road on a corner.
Guy: “What are you doing?”
Stop. This is when my secondary fire gets ignited. From the look on his face and the cadence of his voice I know he is absolutely NOT about to ask me if I am okay. All I hear are my hazard lights flashing, and all I see is this guy.
Guy: “I REPEAT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
I do not see this old man as a physical threat so I open my passenger window, and I can’t control myself as the window lowers.
Me: “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME, SIR?”
Guy: “YOU CAN’T STOP HERE.”
Me: “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME, SIR?”
Guy: “I NEED TO CROSS THE STREET. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO STOP HERE.”
I look around my car and into the street. There is no crosswalk that I am blocking. He could walk around my car.
Me: “Sir, I had to pull over to clean something up, and put on my hazard lights so I wouldn’t get into an accident. I have every right to do this. Why are you bothering me?”
Guy: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU CAN’T SIT HERE.”
I stare at him.
Me: “Walk around my car.”
His mouth opens slightly, shuts, then opens again.
Guy: “YOU ARE SO UGLY. YOU ARE THE UGLIEST WOMAN I’VE EVER SEEN. LOOK AT YOUR NOSE.”
Me: “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY INSULTING ME BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET AROUND MY CAR?”
The man then walks around my car and directly into the street. I open my driver’s window. He looks back.
Guy: “YOU WHORE!”
Me: “I HOPE THAT WHITE CAR HITS YOU!”
I did not mean that. Oh my god, I’m so glad the white car didn’t hit him. He didn’t deserve to be a trauma in my life. I did decide that the next time this scenario happens I’m just going to pretend I’ve dropped dead and fall onto the car horn on my steering wheel. Because I would be perfectly fine with becoming a trauma in his life.
I went to Rite Aid kind of feeling bad about the white car comment and looking like a woman who pissed herself. And I got a Yerba Mate, because I am not a morning person.
And, I can't believe his only retort is 'you're ugly'. You know its only because he thought you were extremely beautiful and has the emotional capacity of a wounded 10 year old.
Ugh, the second hand anger I feel from this story is palpable. It is so telling, and embarrassing, that when men feel they have the right to try and 'put a woman in her place' and then receive the eventual pushback, their first inclination is to insult her looks, or get personal. Give me a break! I feel so terrible for the wives, daughters, sisters, mothers of these men. The shit they must have to put up with. Maybe we should all, collectively, promise to not let the men in our lives off the hook for misogynistic things they do no matter how much we love them.