Head kicking and lemon tarts

I glanced at the mirror above the sideboard and appraised myself: A smattering of freckles, blue eyes that turn slate-gray when I was angry, no make up and messy hair. I wrinkled my nose slightly, the universal sign of me thinking, and a split second later was in my bedroom cupboard digging out my best beanie; my only beanie. I halted in the hall long enough to look in the mirror. No more messy hair and basically unremarkable. Perfect.

I needed coffee and the walk would serve me well despite it being cold out, not really cold enough to justify the beanie, my messy hair did that.

As I walked I thought about terribly important things: World peace, environmental issues, my need for another beanie, coffee and what cake I'd choose.

I'd walked almost two blocks when the car stopped and the man called out to me asking if I need a ride.

No I don't need a ride, thanks. I kept walking and he persisted.

It had happened before, I usually ignored it, but this guy...It was after dark, I was a couple blocks from home and about the same from the coffee shop. I felt uncomfortable. He creeped me out and his wolf-whistle and comments about my ass didn't help any.

I dove into the nearest place, a small convenience store/bakery/market, hoping he'd go away. I browsed around pretending to shop, all the while feeling vulnerable. Thirty minutes later I poked my head out and didn't see him. Now was my chance.

To complete the charade of shopping I'd bought a small lemon tart for one, just to complete my disguise, mind you. I clutched the tiny box in one hand and rushed home, looking over my shoulder the whole time. I hate feeling afraid. Night ruined.

I felt annoyed for not being brave. I went out of my way to look nondescript, be invisible. I felt trapped within the confines of my apartment, by choice yes, but trapped all the same. I was angry, upset and annoyed for not karate-kicking the guy in the head like Jennifer Garner in the Elektra movie. Definitely next time. Maybe.

I sipped my coffee cursing men like that whose thoughtless actions cause disruption to other people's lives. I cursed that a stranger had that power over me. I cursed that I felt weak. I nibbled at my lemon tart which made me feel better then ran a bath. A soak would do me good and I could plan my head kicking moves as I soaked.

Maybe I'll stay in all weekend, with my cats, music, books, the other half of that lemon tart and take baths for the next four days. Maybe I'll form a vigilante group and fight crime and wolf-whistlers - I have just the right outfit. Maybe I'll eat lemon tarts and change the shape of my ass so no one wants to look at it. Probably not though, I like how it looks.

Becca 💗

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