... one night stand double-standard inference, anyone ?
We were driving late Saturday morning when we were stopped by roadworks right next to a bus shelter. Gazing bored out the window, I noticed a girl of around 20 seated in the shelter and clad in what was obviously her clothing from the night before.
Her high heeled shoes sat on the bench next to her. A beaded evening purse sat in her lap. The day was cold and her very short sequined dress wasn't offering much protection.
But by far the most striking thing was the look on her face. Shame. Her clothing was crumpled, her face a smudged mess of stale makeup, her glance kept resolutely downwards. She had been out all night. And now everybody knew it.
I make no assumptions as to where she was or what she did, but whatever happened led her to be alone in last nights' clothes and makeup in a bus shelter amongst a busy passing crowd of curious families and leery men.
People disapproved. And she knew it. But she didn't know why. And I’m not so sure I do, either.
I remember an occasion when I drove into my street some years ago at 11am to see my (male) flatmate strolling jauntily towards me from the other end of the road.
As I drove to meet him, I noticed that his walk was almost a swagger. He had a big grin on his face. His jacket was held by one finger over his shoulder. He was carrying his shoes. And he was so damned proud of himself !.
All the other men mowing their lawns winked and whistled at him if they were sure their wives weren't listening. Like some Mexican-wave of male pride, they all popped up one by one to admire the conquering hero, imagining that all sorts of unsavoury adventures were had.
The irony being that those adventures were with a girl like the one at the bus shelter, I guess.