|
The State of The Feminist Movement |
Arriving to my house,
her hands pounded
on the door
like a category 4 storm.
I put on some pants
and a t-shirt, and
all the while the
frantic knocks
continued.
I finally made it
to the door and
answered it.
Immediately,
she started raving on
and on about
the previous night.
But all I could
notice was the
smell of alcohol,
the streaked mascara,
the run on her
left stocking,
and the
low cut shirt.
This went on
for about five
minutes until
I finally interrupted her
and said, "Baby Cakes,
I don't know whose
place you are looking
for, but this isn't it.
I don't know you!"
She looked up,
and mumbled something
about not
wearing contacts.
I shook my head
and slammed the
door on her face. A dozen images
sprang into my head
of ex-lovers and ex-girlfriends...
total nightmares.
"The feminist movement
is losing the battle,
and women like her
are the reason to blame,"
I thought to myself.
copyright 2005
Francisco
Dominguez |
