throw me a smile, beautiful

rougaello

I’ve seen many guys going up to girls, with an overpowering and unbounded confidence, and I haven’t yet grown to admire it. It is not a confidence as it is looking in a mirror, stripping your never-naked-body off all its implications and saying fuck you to its oppressors. It is a confidence more like a sense of entitlement, the guy’s right to gaze directly at a woman’s breasts and already fantasize, more like expect them to be the walls against which his cum will write ‘I own you and have owned you before and will own you again’. It is distracting the energy around me, as I am going to get a drink, I hear the dude behind the bar telling my friend who happens to be carrying otherness within her, to throw him a smile. My friend is smiling, but she does so for her, for the music playing in the background, for the fact that it is Friday night and we have no money and everything is looking kinda shit, but we’re out anyway. Yet her smile is internal; she is looking cold sober and serious — such an off-putting look for a girl. Unless she is giggling and ready to receive she is probably too prude, or even worse a feminist. “Throw me a smile, beautiful”, as if that’s how she should be paying for the drinks. He thought she was sitting at the bar just asking for his attention, decorating the space until he’s not too busy to notice her and make her happy, as if putting his floppy mass of privilege inside her would mesmerize her existence; he didn’t know and he couldn’t understand she was already smiling — but not for him, not ever for him. She did not throw a smile at him, maybe just a glimpse of curiosity. I think he thought she was a lesbian, or maybe coupled already, yet he asked for a smile again anyway, more like demanded one this time, as if he had the right to extract from her feelings that weren’t there to begin with, as if she was no longer a customer at a bar, but a source of validation and probably admiration for the dude making the drinks, throwing glasses up in the air, performing a masculinity carried down by his fathers, also expecting smiles without giving reasons for them. Of course this is my attitude, just another boy speaking for a girl, but I just couldn’t see this arrogant approach as flirting, and my drink is not ready yet, he hasn’t even taken my order yet, he is ignoring me as if I am invisible and I am, because I can’t offer him the smile he wants, because my mouth is not promising a blowjob. Her mouth is, even though she isn’t. “Throw me a smile, beautiful, why so serious, talk to me I can assist you in every way.” Maybe he doesn’t know that consent flows naturally, no one demands it. Let me tell you something you should know, add it to your list of masculine attributes: Non-consensual smiles do not exist.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.