Frat Bros, Mermaids, and Gettin’ Chose

In order to get from my house to the dining hall, I have to go by a bunch of frats with bad reputations. One is even known as the Rape House. As I came around the hedges of this lovely house, I saw a bunch of the brothers hanging out on the roof, playing music and drinking. Fortunately, my sunglasses were on to hide my nervousness. I don’t like passing groups of guys. It makes me extremely self-conscious. I’m constantly bracing myself in case one of them tries to call something out at me, and I have pay extra attention to the way I walk. I don’t want to trip, and I also don’t want my hips to sway as if I’m trying to be seductive, but above all I don’t want anyone to know how careful my movements are and think that I’m awkward. I was focusing on not being suggestive when the first guy called out.

“Hey! HEY!”

It was too late to pretend to be on my phone without being obvious.

“Heyyy, what’s UP?”

Unfortunately for the guy, I have this policy where I don’t respond to people who yell at me from rooftops. The only exceptions to this are if the person knows me, needs help, or is warning me about something, but this guy didn’t fall into any of these categories. A couple more called out, either insistently or indignantly, not believing that I could actually be ignoring them, before the first guy finally said, “Fine then! BYE” and I had passed the house.

Their timing and location was just terrible, for them. I know a few girls who wouldn’t mind being shouted at, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. In the changing room after dance, classmates crowded around the mirror fixing makeup and adjusting weaves.

“It’s THOT season! Time to get chose!” was the chorus inside the room. It was a chorus I was not going to join.

I don’t like the idea of “getting chose”. Of going out and looking nice just so that I can catch someone’s attention and have them say, “I want HER. That’s the girl I choose!” There was a time where that was something I wanted, but in a naively romantic sense. I used to think it would be amazing to walk by a guy and have him fall in love with me. That’s not what happens. Now, you can walk by a guy and he’ll want to have sex with you and think that he has the right to have you, just because he wants to. Everyone chanting about “THOT season” isn’t helping at all.
I don’t like thinking that I have to wait around for someone to be attracted to me to suddenly be interested in someone. Does that make sense? The whole concept of “getting chose”, to me, is essentially not taking interest in anyone yourself, but suddenly becoming wildly attracted and acquiescent to whichever rando chooses you first. That’s not what I want. I know it’s something that I don’t need to subscribe to (and won’t) but knowing that other people subscribe to it is uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s worse coming from girls, willfully waiting around for men to show up, or guys, with all of their stupid expectations.

I’ve often thought that if I were to be a mythical creature, I would be a mermaid. Mermaid’s are so like me, from what I’ve read. Rather solitary, although able to be in groups for short periods of time. Don’t easily fall in love, but do get very interested in people. I read one story told partly from the point of view of a mermaid, who finds a sailor whose ship is wrecked during a storm. She thinks he’s beautiful, so she drags him down to her home to keep him. Unfortunately, her home is at the bottom of the sea, and he drowns on the way down. At first she’s okay with this, because she can still look at him, but over time his body disintegrates, and then even his bones are gone, and she needs to find a new object to occupy her time.
I’m basically that mermaid. I’m interested in people, but then I don’t usually want to do anything other than watch them. That’s why I’m attracted to weird people; they’re so entertaining!

The other thing about mermaids, that actually connects to the rest of this post, is that men find them attractive, and want to get with them. I always think about how stupid this is. Mermaids have fish bodies (what are you going to do with them? I’m asexual. What are you going to do with me, Mr. Drunk-and-looking-for-a-hookup?), but men still go after them anyway. They still somehow think they’re special, and worthy of gratification just because they want it. No one stops to realize that choosing someone doesn’t mean that you’re automatically chosen back.


That’s when idiots get drowned. I’m not necessarily saying that I think people deserve to die, and I’m not crazy enough to go around killing all the men who ignorantly take advantage of women. What I’m saying is that when I watch (or read) scenes in which mermaids lure sailors to their deaths, I’m kind of with the mermaids. It’s not like the sailors haven’t been warned, and don’t know what they’re getting into. They just make the mistake of thinking that they’re special, and their sense of entitlement gets the better of them. Actual society doesn’t do much to check the entitled. We either give in to them or ignore them. Or become them.

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