Sunday, July 13, 2008

Freedom of Choice

In college, I was a women's studies minor. I just found the field of study fascinating.

Only problem is, outside of my women's studies classes, no one, not even my girl friends, ever wanted to talk about feminism. Not while at happy hour after on Friday night, not on a cigarette break while pulling an all-nighter before a big paper was due, and not while meeting for coffee in the student center. Indeed, there was no place for all of my feminist opinions on the college campus, which was odd, because I thought that would be the one and only place to share them.

So anyway, then I graduated and years went by and life took over and I may have sold my soul just a teency bit (no more than the rest of us), and I pretty much had to push all of my women's studies knowledge deep into the recesses of my brain.

I mean, I didn't totally let go of my beliefs and forget everything I'd researched and read. I'm still me. And that feminist in me comes out every now and then, like when I have to remind men that strippers aren't stripping just for fun. No stripper wants to be stripping. I assure you that something went wrong at some point in her life and she is not happy that she is sticking her boobs in your face, dude. And she doesn't go home and soak in a tub of bubbles and glitter. She sits at her kitchen table with all of her bills spread out in front of her, trying to figure out how to pay them.

And the other night that "What the fuck?" feminist part of me was stirred up once again. 

In the bathroom at Cat & Fiddle at Hollywood.

I ducked in there to pee and saw one stall door closed and the other door open, but the floor was covered in purple puke. Wine vom, obviously. And feeling quite certain that I'd be the type of girl who'd slip on the puke and clunk my head on the toilet bowl, thereby knocking myself out, leaving me to be found by the next person who walked in and then thought that the puke was my own, I thought I should just wait for the other stall to open up.

While I waited, I saw this:

Yes, it's a tampon and pad dispenser that offers women a freedom of choice. A freedom. Of choice.

The wording. Oh sweet mother, the wording of this freaking thing. How obnoxious. As if there was no other freedom of choice that already gets to be The Choice that women are concerned about their freedom to make.   A right to choose something more important than a tampon or a pad.   

Well, ladies, rest easy. Your freedom of choice is safe and secured to the wall of the bathroom at Cat & Fiddle.


Felix for Zosia said...

The one that really shits me is the 'choice' women have about wearing high heels. You are totally free to choose one of the two following options:
1. wear shoes that will hurt all day long (but look hot) and give you severe back/leg/foot problems further down the track
2. have everyone think you are a radical, left-wing, man-hating lesbian*
... actually there is a third option, which is to find a field of employ that does not expect you to dress corporate so that's what I've done.

*not that there's necessarily anything wrong with any of that, but it does seem a bit unfair that many people feel free to make such assumptions based on someone's footwear.

nicoleantoinette said...

Ha, this is pretty great.

surviving myself said...

I'm impressed with your ability to identify the different kinds of vomit, based solely on what color it is.

A woman of many talents?

I would say so.

rs27 said...

Why couldn't have been Kool aid vomit?

I've seen many a Kool aid vomit at the ole' C and F.

JenBun said...

I REALLY hope this isn't the Women's Right to Choose that our government is constantly threatening to take away...

devin said...

I think it's unfair that there's no such thing as "men's studies". In fact, i'm pretty sure it's reverse sexist.

Also, that stripper could get another job. Noone's forcing her to be a stripper. She just wants to take the easy money, rather than doing honest work to pay those bills on her table.

mindy said...

OH NO YOU DI'INT, DEVIN! Is it ON now, Hollywood? I will let you two lovebirds sort that out.

Also, gosh I love those bulky maxi-pads. I sure am glad I have a freedom of choice to use those!

surviving myself said...

Mindy: I've got Devin's back. Yeah, I've never met him before, but he seems cool to me.

Hollywood Sucker said...

felix- I know how you feel. I just try to wear flip flops to work and hope no one notices.

nicole- You're pretty great.

surviving- Yes. Many talents. All useless ones.

rs27- No, no. It wasn't kool aid vomit. It was too rich in color.

jenbun- Yes it is. Before you know it, our only option will be giant diapers.

devin- Ugh!

mindy- Yes, he is a brat.

surviving- Oh, whatever.

Katelin said...

you think they could have picked a better name for that? or no name at all? i mean really, come on.

and i'm glad you didn't slip on the vom, that'd be mildly gross.

miss clover said...

girl. i have a friend that's a stripper and i assure you i am the one that is trying to figure out how to pay the bills on the table. not her.

Hollywood Sucker said...

katelin- Thank goodness! Then this whole story would've been about the vom.

Miss Clover- Well I clearly don't know what I'm talking about then. I guess I envisioned that they didn't make that much money because then I'd just be bitter. Maybe I should just be a stripper.

Peter said...

Why are you trying to ruin strippers for me?

Why? Why??

miss clover said...

we should all just be strippers. my friend works approximately three nights a week and spends her days shopping at the promenade, getting spray tans and mani/pedis and playing the wii she got with her stripper money. if there is one thing i can impress upon you is that strippers are stripping because they make stupid money.