There was a woman outside my store last week interviewing people. She was reporting for Naked News, an Internet news source, and as such was not wearing a shirt or bra.
Because of this, the boys in my store went nutso. One even called me (I was upstairs and missed all the "action", so to speak) to tell me about the "hot Asian chick outside with no top".
Whatever. If that’s what you want to do with your life, then so be it. I just can’t muster the strength to care. Just leave me out of it, thanks.
Let me clear this up for you. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a shirt didn’t bother me. What upset me was the guy who came in with his non-Asian, shirt-wearing, slightly plump girlfriend who proclaimed quite loudly that "she was fuckin hot, man! She had great tits! Didja see ‘em? Man, she’s hot!"
His girlfriend looked at me. She was quite upset, and rightly so. You don’t say things like that in front of your girlfriend. That’s shit you pull with your drinking buddies, if you still feel a need to behave in such a manner. I felt like I should say something to him because I was feeling mean and wanted to humiliate him in front of his buddies. I said to him," Haven’t you ever seen breasts before?" He replied with,"Not like those!"
I sighed and told him that his parents must be so proud that the product of their union produced such a wanker. He looked a bit shocked, and I tried to explain to him that breasts are no big deal. He shrugged and muttered something about me probably being a dyke and moved to join up with friends. I laughed, because really, if that’s the best insult he can come up with he really is a wanker.
His girlfriend looked at me again and said she didn’t understand the big deal. She told me how his behavior was making her feel inadequate as a woman and that there was no way she could ever compare with the woman outside. I told her she doesn’t have to compete with anyone. Society loves to pit women against each other when it comes to personal self worth. Anything to make you buy into the myth that with the right combination of surgery, cosmetics and diet, she could look like that woman outside. I asked her if she really wanted to be that woman, surrounded by all those men who were leering at her. Ew.
She laughed and admitted that the thought, no matter how tempting on the surface, didn’t seem to measure up to what she truly expects from herself. At this point, her retarded boyfriend comes back to collect her. He wanted to see if the chick was still outside. I shook my head and laughed at him as they walked away.
It wasn’t until later that I realized I had lied to her. I have bought into the myth. I do want to be beautiful and desired and special. Not because I have low self-esteem, but because I am lonely. I want someone to make me feel like I am the only thing that matters to them and that without me they would be miserable. I walk past couples and wish I were one of them. I miss Mark terribly and wish that things could have worked out but…Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. Horrible words that make you feel like you didn’t do enough. Or didn’t do the right thing. I wrote another poem:

I am lost in the memory of his hands
Caressing my face
Touching my hair
His lips gently brushing mine
I am lost in the memory of his smile
How he laughs
The light in his eyes
I am lost in the memory of him
And in being lost
I find myself.
Goodnight people. I’m tired of feeling this way.

Our Women's resource pages has links and phone numbers for help.

Please email us your comments about the above article and we will post them on this page!   You can also email us at bestbytch@shebytches.com.