Picture yourself on a crowded city street. It’s a pleasant summer day, women are wearing shorts, sleeveless tops or even sundresses as women are want to do. To make matters worse, every other person on the street appears to be a woman, it’s as if they comprise over half the population. As you begin to notice this, something in your lizard brain kicks in and your animal urges become frighteningly powerful.
Suddenly, you find yourself overcome with the need to shout at these women, hollering what you perceive to be compliments from across the street. To maintain a civilized society you must keep these urges to yourself. Still, that does not quell the rumbling in the pit of your stomach and as the sensation travels upwards through your lungs and into your mouth you must not let a goddamn sound escape. Shut your mouth and keep it tight.
Within moments you feel as if you’re going to burst and it becomes apparent that you have to get off the street! Duck into a restaurant, a bodega, any place with a public restroom, this could get messy. Position yourself in front of the sink and glimpse the shame in your reflection. You are now safe to open your mouth.
Woooeee! I’d like to I’d like to see you take that top off, hot stuff!
No one’s ever said that to you before, most days you look into the mirror and see a piece of shit. Is that really how you feel? Well, take it off, have a peek.
Why don’t you smile, baby?
It’s okay, crack a smile, you’re the only one here. Well, there is a confused patron in the third stall, but for all intensive purposes, it’s just you and your reflection.
At this moment you realize no one has ever called you beautiful before. You’ve heard the word, but not once has it been directed at you. Tears start to fill your eyes. It’s okay, you can cry, there’s nothing wrong with crying. Let the tears flow you beautiful man. Now go home and rest knowing a better use your energy is to affirm yourself rather than accosting unsuspecting women on the street.