After I had my hair fixed, I went to work to feed my fish. His name is Caddie (my Supervisor’s 7 year old son named the fish), and he sits on my desk. A bunch of the guys were chatting in one section, so I went to join in – because that’s what you do when your office is mostly guys. If you don’t invite yourself then you will never be invited for the most part – and one of the guys, Dom, goes, “you know Clune. I have seen you looking super hot, and you could do that all the time if you put some effort in” (I was wearing a guys long sleeved shirt that’s a bit big on me, but is warm and comfy, and jeans that aren’t fitted, but again, they are comfy and they fit me. And no makeup cuz why the fuck would I put makeup on today?).
I said, “excuse you, I look hot all the time. And since it matters what I think of myself way more than it matters what other people think of me, I’m fine with not making an effort.”
“Well don’t you ever want to find a man?”
“You know that I could go knock on a door and get laid right now, right?’
“But a relationship.”
“You mean with a stuck up prick who only thinks I’m good enough when I wear makeup and dress nicely?”
“Whatever Clune, your loss.”
No, you asshole. Your motherfucking loss. If you can’t see beyond the way someone dresses, then you may find someone someday, but chances are that she will be just as shallow as you are.
And as much as I acted confident and awesome in that moment, it really does sting when people say things like that. I looked in the mirror this morning and didn’t think badly of myself, and for most women that is an achievement of the highest order. Then some misogynistic asshole says some crap, and you can’t help but let it affect you. I hate guys.
I hate them.