My Man Does Not Patronize Places Like Hooters

Autumn’s coming, but I can’t feel it in the air. Depressing. You know how it is when you can feel a change in the air, and it’s thrilling? Well, I’m not experiencing that. But I used to, always at this time of the year. School’s back in session, you’re settling in and learning new things. I really miss all that.

But even though Arizona doesn’t truly experience autumn, not in the traditional sense, anyway, I’m still doing my autumn mix. This will be the fourth year that I’ve done it. I might have told some people that it will be the fifth, but it’s not. The years just bleed together, you know and it seems like I’ve been doing it for five years already.

So that’s something to look forward to, the autumn mix.

Good news. I got a job. It’s only part time, but it’s something I really want. It doesn’t start until September 12^th, but in the meantime I’ve been doing this lame band instrument rental crap. I hate to say it because it’s rude and judgmental and it will seem like I’m looking down on other people, but the thing is the people I go out with on these little elementary school jaunts are a bunch of deadbeats who don’t understand me.

Yesterday we drove past a Hooters and this stupid kid was like, “Woo hoo, let’s go to Hooters.”

I know I could have been jocular about it and had a good time and all, but I didn't feel like it because I don't know him, not really. So I said, “Whatever, we’ll drop you off and you can go to Hooters.”

“What? That’s fine with me. What about your husband, doesn’t he like to go to Hooters?” I said no. Then he said, “Well, what if he went, would you slap him or divorce him?”

To which I responded, “I’m not a violent person, but the question is stupid anyway, I wouldn’t marry a man who wanted to go to a place like Hooters.” Because I wouldn’t. Hello. Everyone knows this. I could have joked that I would have done both, slap him first then divorce him, but that would have been more of a misrepresentation of the truth.

This conversation was going on in a van, and I was in the front seat and he was in the very back seat. Instantly I wished I hadn’t said anything, had just ignored the asinine comment in the first place. The lady driving the van, a middle-aged, large woman, tried to smooth over the discussion with a “I’ve been to Hooters, it’s not that bad. The girls just wear tight tops and short skirts, and maybe get a little flirty.” And I felt very sorry for her. She was obviously justifying the perspective/actions of some man in her life because no good woman in her right mind, unless she’s a lesbian, would justify a messed up joint like Hooters. Probably her husband’s actions and she clearly has no confidence, which is understandable, being obese, but that shouldn’t matter because a woman’s will comes from within and from the unshakeable knowledge that she’s a Woman, dammit. Large black women are still full of attitude and confidence, it’s beautiful (is it wrong to say ‘black women?’ I don’t know what’s considered p.c. anymore). What’s the problem with white girls?

Anyway, after she said that, the guy in the back was all over it, saying stuff like, “Yeah, it’s not that bad…blah blah blah, I’m a jerk, a pigheaded guy who objectifies women and sex is a meaningless, carnal act between humans who have regressed into nothing more than a surging body of animalistic urges…love, what is love? Respect for women? My mother? I have a mother? And other women are sisters and mothers with feelings….what?” (He didn’t really say any of that, these are words I’m putting in his mouth because these are the attributes I perceive in a man who exhibits such careless attitudes.)

So I said, “Whatever, maybe it’s ‘not that bad,’ I simply disagree with the principle of the thing. That’s what offends me.” Then I didn’t say anything more because it wasn’t worth it, really. After that I shut everything else out, any conversation in the van, because these people have no concept of anything I consider important. I felt extremely misunderstood, like I was some kind of domineering woman and that bothers me. Because I’m not domineering.

I purposely chose a man with morals similar to mine, who values the same things, who loves his mother and his sisters, who chooses to see women as people and not a stack of boobs placed in his path to titillate his sexual desire. Is that so wrong? Why aren’t there more women in the world like myself? Why don’t good women demand more from men? I’m sick of the attitude that “Boys will be boys.” That’s b.s. It’s the same as “Let’s just all give up.”

I read and hear about women who are upset because they caught their husbands looking at porn on the internet, or their boyfriends want to go to strip clubs with their buddies. Hey, here’s a clue, “It’s me or the highway.” (I know it’s really “It’s my way or the highway…” But in this case, my misquote “It’s me or the highway” really works.) There shouldn’t even be a choice. A good woman, flesh and blood, who will also provide an emotional connection, is better than the pixilated, fake images of sex happening on the screen of a cold, unresponsive computer. Or maybe that’s what some people want. Fake. Cold. Unemotional. If they do, they’re already dead inside.

To end on a good note, I came home last night and told Stoker about the conversation and asked him if I have him all wrong, if I’m domineering. He said no. And I believe him. I’m right about him and I’m damn lucky to have found a man who rises above it, a man who wants an emotional connection with me as much as he wants all the other aspects of me.