I don’t know where to begin.
I’m writing an open letter to a specific group of people and I am concerned it will come off like I think too highly of myself. I assure you, I do not ride a high horse. I can’t even ride a regular-sized horse. One time I tried to ride one at summer camp and he hated me so much he tried to scrape me off on a fence. So then our hatred became mutual.
Back to the letter. Weird people, meaning the not fun weird, but truly weird-weird type, bother me. Sometimes after I encounter one, the only thing I can think of to do about it is simply to write them an open letter that they will never, ever read.
I forgot how outgoing the people are down here in the bayou. I quite like it, except when it’s in the form of unwelcome sexual advances and/or attempted pick-ups. Then I dislike it a LOT. Especially if my children are with me. It’s one thing for a stranger to bother me when I’m alone, but usually one or both of my kids are present and staring with their big saucer eyes. That is what happened today and I am still so furious that I’m starting to sweat a little just typing this.
Do I want my sons to grow up seeing their mama ignoring strange men who talk to her? That makes me feel like I’m just allowing something uncomfortable to happen to me. Should I scream obscenities at them instead? I don’t know what would be better. They need to know that women are to be respected. Obviously the people I’m writing to never learned that.
Dear Strange and Unmannerly Man At The Gas Station,
If I gave you the impression that I am looking to take a ride to Slut Town because I’m dressed like a normal person who drives a normal car with two car seats in the back, I am sorry to have misled you.
No, I do not need a baby daddy. I have one already. His name is Husband. I find it strange that someone who is so persistent should be out looking for a girlfriend. Seems you’d have one already.
Now run along before I fucking run you over, you piece of shit.