i don’t like being locked in. i don’t like small, enclosed spaces. when i leave the office at night sometimes i’m the last person to leave. i ask the people up front not to lock the door but i guess they’re either deaf, stupid, or overly protective as our office is surrounded by 3 bars. still, i’d rather have some slobbering, nasty drunk wander in off the street for a quickie than be locked in the office in the dark. when i get up to the front door i always get this frazzled panicky blahblidy blah thing when i try to unlock it. sometimes i drop the keys. sometimes i drop my purse. sometimes i fall on the floor and writhe around like a moron. okay, not really. but i want to. i just can’t get the door unlocked fast enough.
when i was a kid my family went to this restaurant. it was a family joint; not too bad from what i remember. i had to go to the restroom and i remember you had to go in to one room and then through another door to get to the ladies room. it was a single seater. so off i went. i washed my hands and turned to leave. unfortunately, i hit the light switch before i unlocked the door and opened it. i was like, maybe six, okay? and not the brightest crayon in the box. i couldn’t find the lock on the door. then i couldn’t find the light switch again. there were no windows in there and it was pitch-freaking-black in this tiny little room. then the panic set in. i freaked. i didn’t so much panic actually so much as i had two myocardial infarctions in a row. impressive for one so young, no? i started beating on the door but no one heard me on a accounta the restrooms being in another room separated from the restaurant. brilliant planning, that. after a bit i gave up trying to find the lock, the doorknob and the light and just sank to the floor crying like a stupid baby until my family finally noticed i hadn’t come back yet and sent someone to check on me. yes, i was much loved as a child. the kitchen staff had to be summoned to get a key and unlock the door from the outside. don’t think that wasn’t embarrassing and humiliating beyond the pale. even for me.
my family still teases me about it when we dine out. i can always count on them for support and encouragement.
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.
Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
