News Flash: I Am Not For Sale.

So last night, Kat and I went down to the Yale to see her dad play. While that might seem lame as hell, her dad plays New Orleans style blues and Zydeco music, which overpowers the dad factor by about plus one million.

We danced our butts off and had a great time, but I did have a wakeup call. I was dancing with this one guy. He was fifty years old, and looked like money. We got to talking and I mentioned E. That brought everything to a grinding halt.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Of course I have a boyfriend! Look at me!” Admittedly, I could have been less of an asshole at this point, but he looked so surprised it just kind of slipped out.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s at home, He worked all day.”

And then the guy threw a strop and left angry.

There are so many reasons why this is wrong. First, grown men shouldn’t get into little pissy fits. But the fact that I had a boyfriend was what set him off? That pissed me off. Did he think he could buy me for the evening, that I was going to follow him home for the price of some wine? Unbelievable.

Also, why did he assume that because I was out dancing, I was single? Should I have been home darning E’s socks? That is some fucked up thinking. Because I was out in public unaccompanied, he considered me fair game.

And that’s what I was. Game. I was out at a bar, dancing. Therefore I would sleep with him if he figured out how to make that happen.

I’d like to think that this is an isolated incident with an isolated guy. But I know it’s not, and even on the brink of 2008, there are actually people who see me as a commodity, and believe that I shouldn’t be let into the filly pool because I should be Home With My Man, and not out there tempting guys into salacious thoughts.

I will keep fighting, but I grow weary.

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