By Keeley Parker
It’s really in moments like this that I remember how lucky I am to be a woman. Being a woman can be quite frightening at times, but I often think that opinions like that really just attack men. You agree, right? I find that the wonders of womanhood grant me quite a few opportunities that poor, oppressed men just don’t get.
For instance, just this evening, I was invited to go on a ride in a white van. A free ride! And there was the added excitement of having no idea where I was going or if I’d ever be returned to campus, let alone see my family again! Well, I wouldn’t say invited, more like violently pulled in by the arm with a hand over my mouth. But that was just to keep my shrieks of excitement from escaping my lush, feminine lips. And what man gets the raw, sexual excitement of their arm being yanked out of its socket. It was just the guys in the van saying “I want you and find you desirable” and honestly, boys in this crazy anti-tampon feminist age never get that kind of thing from those “sexually empowered” females.
I just see this as a way for these men to rank me above the other girls at my school. I don’t care what other girls say. Consent is hard! I was probably asking for it, what with wearing my full body groutfit. It’s really just the suggestion of a curve or fat deposit that can really signal “she’s down for doing it doggy style and blindfolded in an abandoned factory I bring her to!”
Just being a girl is great! Who even wants to walk alone at night and not feel safe? To me, there’s nothing more freeing than not wearing headphones to listen to the music I’ve been mixing for the next frat party. Instead, I like to listen to the soft patter of my future assailant — sorry — lover’s footsteps coming at me from behind! And the car keys peeking out of fingers like cute little kitty claws? Boys rarely get the chance to dig those into someone’s eyes while screaming bloody murder.
I don’t really care where this white van is taking me. It’s way cheaper than an Uber. The handcuffs on the ground that I can see out of the brown canvas bag over my head are a little bit concerning, but luckily my mom paid for a self defense class before I went to college, so now I can hopefully get some fight experience that far exceeds that of two frat boys battling over the last natty.
The only thing I don’t like is the drama that’s going to happen if I make it back or if they find my naked body lying under a vandy van. Some girls are going to argue that I’ve been “brutalized” and that it’s “unfair that this happened to me.” Luckily, I know that the police are going to agree with me that the benefits of this trip far outweighed the costs! It’s just what I get for showing a bit of collarbone when walking back to my dorm!