Earlier tonight, I went to a New Year’s Eve party. My hope was to find some girl to kiss upon the dawning of the New Year, then sleep with her. Unfortunately, it all went to shit.
I went to a lesbian friend’s house around 11pm. The drinks were flowing, music was blasting, and all were merry. Shortly after introductions, I asked the host, “Who’s the girl in the silver blouse? Does she have a boyfriend?” She replied, “It’s my roommate. She’s single” If I’d have known what I was getting into, I’d have never pursued her.
I chatted with the roommate for a bit, then talked with her again a few minutes before midnight. I asked, “Do you have anyone to kiss for New Years?” She replied, “No. But I’ll give you a quick kiss” I replied, “That’s a start”, and we smootched. I got my New Years kiss. Check.
Since this was an easy and enjoyable start, I figured the rest would be smooth. Our conversation flowed easily. She even obliterated my biggest hurdle: my addiction to nicotine. She said, “I like the smell of smoke. It’s weird, but I find something about it comforting” Check and mate.
After a couple hours of intermittent chatting, we were alone outside. Somehow, our conversation turned toward feminism and it’s merits. My faithful readers know how I feel about the subject, so I won’t fill in the details. She wasn’t as receptive. She was devoted to being a career woman and had no desire for children. If I wanted the lay, I should have shut my yup. Instead, my convictions drove me forward.
“You think men want to be a corporate slaves? You think we enjoy pushing papers for some asshole up the chain making one-hundred times what we’re making? Fuck that. I’d rather be nursing children and living off the productivity of another.”
Her self-proclaimed “feminazi” leanings couldn’t bear my worldview. After she brought up equality and gender roles, I mentioned, “Men build civilizations. Women tend to them. There’s nothing wrong with accepting your role. You’ll never be equal to us, in that regard”
It was then that she lost her shit.
She began talking about how I wanted to hit her. I didn’t want to hit her, because I thought we were having a civilized discussion. I was confused, because she was putting words in my mouth. She kept up with her talk of violence, but it was in a projection style. She kept saying, “You want to hit me”
She approached me like an aggressor and came close to my face. I remember seeing four eyes, as my vision couldn’t focus on such a close object. She began swinging at me. I placed my forearm against her collar bones and opposite shoulder in a defensive position. Also, I turned my hips perpendicular to her, as I expected an attack toward my groin. She didn’t notice my change in body language.
I use the term “attacking” loosely, as her blows were ineffective and unharmful. This back-and-forth ballet continued for a few minutes until she demanded I leave her premises. Considering I was the guest of her roommate, I told her politely, “Fuck off. I’ll leave when I feel like leaving” During this time, she was grasping my throat, leaving my replies neutered as I didn’t have full control of my windpipe. I considered her behavior like a child’s, as there was no real threat.
After a few seconds of her feeble strikes, she began pushing me and I had enough. I pushed her back with half-force and she rocketed into the brick wall behind her. Shortly after, the guests in attendance came outside and tried to separate us. Ironically, it was her holding onto the strings of my hoodie that negated that option. I remember saying, “Tell this bitch to let go of my shit!” multiple times. Around the fifth or sixth time, she let go and I fled the scene.
Why flee? Because I know laws in America are stacked against men, especially in the case of violence. It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed the marks on my face. During the altercation, this bitch clawed me.
Gentlemen, in the future, heed my warning: any woman that claims a love of feminism is not one to have conversation with. Any attempt at arguing your side will be met with hostility, sometimes physical. As soon as you hear her proclaim love of feminism, walk away.
It’s not her wounds that I’m angry about. No, no. I’ve had much more intimidating men try to punk me, to which I’ve responded, “Fuck you, bitch, come get some”
It’s about a system designed to enslave and impoverish men acting within their natural role. The law is not on our side and it’s best to avoid legal entanglements.