Being a woman

The very first day of work at the bar turned into a nightmare for me. Lewd looks, obscene thoughts of visitors (yes, now I can hear them!), shouts, mockery, hooting, dirty jokes, slaps and strokes on the backside, touching my chest... Some drunken guys pawed, grabbed, tried to kiss me. And this despite the fact that my appearance is completely ordinary, even modest! And the audience here is so-so: workers, small traders, policemen (off duty, of course), drug dealers and other street scum.

All this was disgusting and repulsive. I was frightened by the very thought, that this is only the beginning. That even the road to work and back is torture. Heels, makeup... It's not about them, but about the reaction of others. In this dirty, ceremonious, arrogant attitude of men. They honk, shout insults, all sorts of obscenities... What awaits me next? After all, I need this job so much!

But I am forced not only to endure all these humiliations, but also write down everything that happened during the day, like a guilty schoolboy who forced to write "I won't do that again" a hundred times.

P.S. It's the 25th day out of a hundred. One hundred days in a woman's body - such is my punishment, which replaced death by the grace of God's judgment.

P.P.S. It's hard to be a woman. Felt it on my own skin.

P.P.P.S. I swear, never by word, deed, or thought I will not offend any woman!