Girls just wanna have fun (without worrying about getting assaulted)

Last night my daughter and I went out to engage in our favorite mother-daughter bonding ritual:  singing karaoke.

I was singing something new (we had agreed that tonight would be a "try songs we haven't sung at karaoke before" night) when I looked over and saw two men had wasted no time zeroing in on my daughter. 

Her body language clearly stated, "I'm not interested, I'm just being polite."  Of course, this happens every time we go out.  Often, when I come back to the table the predator-oops-man will then leave to wait for an opportune time to resume his pursuit - usually when I sing next, or if she leaves the table to go to the bathroom.  Anyway, these two guys persisted in the face of both of our exceedingly clear signals that we weren't interested in continuing the conversation.

It made me angry - totally pissed off. 

I was angry at the male assumption that two women, who were clearly enjoying each other's company, would really be much happier talking to men than to each other.  After all, women who go to bars are automatically signalling they are looking for men, right? (Sarcasm sign!) 

I was angry that the night before, when we were out with my husband and her boyfriend and my son, not one man hit on either of us. NOT ONE! Apparently, having so many men with us was a signal to other men that we were not available.  Although, this too is no guarantee. Both of us have been hit on when we were on dates.

I was angry that it didn't matter that I was wearing a wedding ring and it wouldn't have mattered if she had had one on too.  It didn't matter that she had a boyfriend.  After all - our men let us go out alone, so they must not care too much about us (again sarcasm!).  And obviously my husband and her boyfriend couldn't even begin to measure up to their obnoxious, drunken charm - right? (Do I need to keep adding the sarcasm alerts?)

I was angry that there were at least five men who hit on her that evening.  That two men hit on wedding-ring-wearing me.  That as we talked about it, my daughter said "Welcome to my life."  To which I responded, "My life too.  And the life of every woman, everywhere."

I was angry that my 20-something daughter can't go out to karaoke by herself.  She has to make sure she has a friend with her.  Otherwise the male attention goes from hitting on her to groping, following her to her car, or pressuring her to leave with them. 

I was angry that when she got up to sing, I needed to move her drink in front of me.  And she had to do the same for me.  We had to keep our drinks in our line of sight at all times, which got in the way of watching the singers and supporting each other when we sang, and generally enjoying the evening. 

I was angry that I needed to teach her to never accept a drink directly from a stranger, only from the bartender or waitress's hand.  And if she ever has any doubt, throw the drink out and get a new one.  Women just can't be too careful - drinks can be spiked so easily:  she could have been raped.  That I needed to teach her that her drink is just as likely to be spiked (and it has been!) in the small rural community where we live as it is in a big city.


Let me stop and address those who are thinking, "Well, you must have encouraged them!" Not that it should matter, but neither one of us were dressed provocatively.  To say otherwise is to blame the victim.  Besides, it really doesn't matter how a woman is dressed - just check the display of sexual assault survivors' clothing, titled  "What were you wearing?"  We weren't drunk, neither of us were even consuming alcohol - not that it matters.  Again, that is victim blaming.  (Listen to Chris Janson's Take a Drunk Girl Home to discover the proper way to treat drunk women).

So, why didn't we ask them to leave us alone?  To be honest, I was thinking that I should be a role model for my daughter and politely ask them to leave us alone, saying that we just wanted to spend some mother-daughter bonding time.  But I hesitated to be so direct.  I was brought up to be polite. Still, I avoided eye contact, made minimal responses to their attempts at conversation and literally gave them the cold shoulder.  All passive responses, and I wondered why I was so reluctant to just say, "We're not interested in talking with you."  (OK, I really wanted to say, "We don't want to talk to your drunk-ass." but that REALLY would be been going to far!)

Then I thought of the frisson of fear that went through me when my daughter mentioned that we were going to the grocery.  Would they follow us when we left, knowing we would be at Walmart (the only place open that late)?  And I realized that my hesitation to be direct was fear - fear of how these men would react if we rejected them.

Women worry about this.  When I was a young adult, we would joke, "He's probably an ax murderer?"  But underneath the joke was the frightening reality:  we have no way of knowing if the guy hitting on us will turn violent if we reject him  ( a quick google of "boy who killed girl over rejection" yielded these:  Sante Fe Shooter Rejected By Girl He Killed,  indiana-man-fatally-shot-girlfriend-rejected-marriage-proposal  and  Talk to Girls about the Boys Who Might Kill Them or toxic-masculinity-is-killing-women-why-arent-men-more-concerned). 

A word to those of you reading this and thinking, "That's not me.  I would never harass or hurt a woman. The women I talk to in bars enjoy my company.  I don't pressure them, and if she asks me to leave her alone, I do. But no one has ever asked me to leave."  OK, maybe - just maybe - she enjoys your company.  Or maybe she's worried about how you will react if she's asks you to leave.  You might not be dangerous, but she has no way of knowing if you're one of the good guys, a predator pretending to be a good guy, an outright predator. And make no mistake, she has been taught to be polite and not anger you just in case you are the predator in good guy's clothing.

Last night, I smiled (but not too much), I politely responded when necessary, I was vigilant about watching for our safety.

And I longed for the day when a mother and daughter could simply go out for a time of fun, relaxation and bonding. For a time when anger and fear doesn't lurk beneath the surface of a girls' night out.

I longed for a day when women can have fun without worrying about being assaulted.