"...I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

-Blanche Dubois, A Street Car Named Desire by Tennessee Williams ( who was not actually from Tennessee)

in response to this from Angels in America by Tony Kushner :

"Well that's a stupid thing to do. "- Hannah Pitt

Something happened to me today that has happened to me before and I never really know how to react to it. I knew there was going to be a problem when I pulled up to get gas by the way these two guys were hanging around. They were both fairly old though it was hard to tell exact age as part of it was probably poverty. As soon as I got out of my car, it started.

"My friend said you were beautiful and you are." (Let's call this guy Beauty)

Me: Thank you. ::not looking at him, just want to get my damn gas::

Beauty: I could pump that gas for you so you wouldn't have to get any one you.

Me: No, thank you.

Beauty: It's not for money, just cause your pretty.

Me: No thank you.

Beauty: Who did that to your car? Who keyed your car?

( actually I did it accidentally with shovel trying to pry twenty thousand pounds of snow)

Me: I don't know. No one keyed it. ::still looking straight ahead, not engaging::

Beauty: You're not friendly. You're not beautiful, beautiful is on the inside. ::stalks inside to pay his gas, I continue to pump mine. He returns, still pissed at me clearly:: You're not beautiful, beautiful is on the inside. You have a bad attitude, it doesn't cost you anything to be friendly. It's people like you who make the world like it is. ::getting into his car now:: You have a flat ass. ::drives off::

At first I felt like a jerk. Maybe I should have just been nice and talked with him for a few minutes. And then I felt like a jerk for feeling like a jerk. Let's breakdown my case for acting the way I did, not justifying just where I'm coming from:

1. I just wanted to get gas. There was nothing about me that invited any kind of conversation. I was in fact clearly dressed in work clothes. Nothing trampy. Knee length skirt, fairly conservative shirt and flats.

2. I have no idea who this guy and his buddy were. I am young woman by myself. No matter where I am, what time of day, I am very aware of my surroundings. This innate paranoia can hamper me sometimes, but it has probably also saved my life on one or two occasions. Stranger danger!

3. Is this 1950?! I can gas up my own damn car without gettin' myself all mussed up! I actually prefer to pump my own gas since attendants usually 'top it off' spilling gas everywhere. His assumption that I thought he wanted money for the transaction says a bit about his mindset as well. And why the hell would I pay someone to pump my gas? I am not fragile flower. Nuh, not for you sir.

4. I JUST WANTED TO GET GAS.

5. I accepted the compliment, I even answered his questions. How does this give me a bad attidude? What did he want me to do? Flirt with him while he pumped my gas, give him my phone number and then suck him off later in an alley out of graditude? Are there girls out there who fall for the one compliment and a gas job line?

6. What killed me was his two parting shots.
a. It's people like me who are responsible for the world being the way it is. Yes, I can see that. Clearly by voting against the current politicians who are in office, doing a little bit to keep the environment green, choosing a career track that's about helping, but not being friendly to a stranger at gas station=EVIL! Behold my vast presence of darkness that shall cast a shadow over all the land. G.W. will cower in my awesome shadow!
b. I have a flat ass. Wow. That's a wounder right there. Not only are people like me the root of the oncoming apocalypse, we don't even have the decency to have a sweet ghetto booty while doing so. I'm white and Jewish for the love God. Of course my ass is flat.

I know I probably let this guy get under my skin and part of why I couldn't let go of this incident was that I felt uncomfortable with my own reaction. Maybe if I had made a bit more of an attempt to be pleasent he would have been fine.

Yet...there's something so pre-feminist movement about this expectation of all woman to be pleasant no matter what a man says to them.

Anyway, I am beautiful on the inside. Have you ever seen a video of organs moving in concert? That's a damn masterpiece and the only thing clogging mine up is too many ho-hos.

Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian