Things Strange Men Say To Me, part 1
At the prodding of my dear friend Drew, a collection of the odd and unsolicited bits of commentary that my presence seems to invite.
It's so interesting how we move through this world with an idea of who we are; an identity that we've formed and accepted as true. And yet every other person we encounter, even in the slightest way, holds a different opinion of that identity, and is constantly forming their own interpretation. And sometimes that pushes and pulls our personal understanding of self. Other times, it couldn't feel more unfamiliar or foreign. Yet other times, it makes you wonder if perhaps neither is correct.
The Scene: Walking home from getting a drink with Nik. We part ways because I am walking and he is biking. Not more than a few minutes after we diverge, I hear steps behind me, quickly gaining on my pace until they are in step but just behind and out of eyesight. Then, I hear *sniff* ... *sniff, sniff, sniff* so I naturally turn around to survey my surroundings.
Him: "You smell nice"
Me, perplexed and caught off guard: "Um..."
Him: "I mean, I have a really sensitive nose and I know these things. I smelled the whole area and it is definitely you that smells nice"
Me, thinking about how we are walking along arguably the smelliest part of Mission and there is surely no way he can discern anything over the street smell: "...thanks?"
The Scene: Walking home from work one night, I pass by a stoop with 7-8 men in their young 20s hanging out. As I approach they begin talking at me, until one intervenes and says "leave her alone man, she's by herself!" They go back to whatever they were doing, until I pass by, when one exclaims:
Him: "DAMN girl, you got hella back!!"
Me: "...y'all have a good night."
The Scene: Checking out at my local Mediterranean grocery store, making small talk with the cashier.
Him: "But you are Persian?"
Me: "Oh, no, I'm afraid not."
Him, a bit crestfallen: "But you are not from here, yes?"
Me: "I'm American, yes."
Him: "But you look Middle Eastern!"
Me: "Oh, okay."
The Scene: West Oakland BART station, I'm holding a rice cooker which I'm borrowing from Nik and Drew, and in the process of schlepping it home, via Oakland's Chinatown for a quick grocery run.
Him: "Hi. Do you have a boyfriend? You making dinner tonight? You making rice?"
Me: "I am making rice tonight."
Him: "So can I have your number?"
Me: "No, thank you."
Completely unrelated photos from Fog Art and Design Fair (top) and BAMPFA (bottom).