Running with Pepper Spray

It sucks to be a woman.

Wait, hear me out. I read stuff in the news like this, and I think, "Oh crap, I'm going to have to start carrying a gun and enroll in martial arts classes." Or something. Does anything work?

Seriously. When I run, I take a can of pepper spray. But is that enough? And as I run, I look passers-by in the face, so they know I'm not afraid and so I know what they look like. I'm hardly friendly, even though some people are very polite. I'm thinking about getting a big dog to take with me. A scary dog. And I'm considering getting tattoos and spiking my hair so that I look scary and uninviting.

Ok, the last bit isn't true. But it really bothers me that the world isn't safe. That a woman can't go for a walk somewhere without worrying that a man might decide to oh I don't know, rape then kill her.

I understand that choice is an essential part of life and that we should all be allowed to evolve at our own pace, and that a person should not be condemned before they've done something; or rather, a person might have evil thoughts now and then, but they might not act on their thoughts, so it wouldn't be right to pronounce a verdict until a crime is committed. Otherwise we'd all be in trouble.

Even so, I can't help but feel that so many bastards deserve to be banished to a penal colony before they kill. It really sucks to go through an entire life with the knowledge that men will always and forever be physically stronger than you. That's why I need to get a gun and some tattoos. And I guess that's one advantage to being a really butch woman. Maybe. Is it? Who knows.